


Nanowrimo 2013 Prompt/Request Collection

by leen_go (cagedchaos)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:17:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 28,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cagedchaos/pseuds/leen_go
Summary: A collection of drabbles based of prompts and requests.





	1. Cakeshop AU

**Author's Note:**

> "cake shop fanxing au;; sweet and fluffy like mousse"

# v.1

“…Two blackberries and finally a slice of peach!”

Zhang Yixing finished placing the last of the decorative fruits atop the eight inch strawberry mousse cake, grabbing a clean towel off the counter to wipe his fingers. The bell at the front of the shop tinkled at the entrance of a customer and Yixing put down the towel to undo the apron from around his waist. “I’ll be out in a second!” He gingerly picked up the cake plate he had been working on, wiping a stray dollop of whipped cream with a finger and carrying it through the door to the front of his bakery where the sunset coloured the walls a faint honey. “How can I help you?” he asked immediately, making sure that the cake plate was steady upon the counter before glancing up at his new customer.

Yixing considered himself lucky to have decided to place his latest creation down before looking towards the customer. He guessed him to be over six feet tall, _at least_ , even slightly hunched over at the moment to admire the different options behind glass windows on the wall, hands in the pockets of his perfectly creased pants and his tie dangling from his neck. His blond hair styled up such that not a single strand was out of place, dark roots starting to show near the scalp.

“Uhm,” Yixing starts again as he cleared his throat in an attempt to stop staring, “Can I help you, sir?” Yixing watched as the tall blond turned towards him, a smile gracing his lips as he pulled out his hand and gestured towards one of the displays behind him on the wall.

“I need a cake.”

Yixing grinned at the flat statement, “Well, yeah, I guessed that since you _did_ walk into my _bakery_.”

“Oh, uh, sorry. It’s been a long day at work,” the customer explained as he stuck his hands back into their pockets, “It’s my secretary’s thirtieth birthday tomorrow and I wanted to get her a cake to celebrate.”

“Tomorrow?” Yixing exclaimed a little in alarm, bringing his wrist up to glance at his watch. “It might be tight, but I could probably whip something up for you.”

“No no, it’s alright. I don’t need an extravagant cake or anything. She doesn’t want it to be a huge deal, something about not turning thirty and it just being the anniversary of her twenty-ninth birthday or whatever, I don’t know.”

Yixing raised an eyebrow at the explanation but he was hardly surprised, “Uhm, so… what did you have in mind then?”

The blond shrugged, “Those cupcake thingies seem to be a huge thing right now, so maybe one of those?”

“Cupcake thingies,” Yixing repeats, another amused smile creeping onto his face. “That’s what you want? A ‘cupcake thingy’?” He could hardly resist the urge to mock the guy, even though his customer service training was against it. Yixing cleared his throat and bit his lip from continuing when he noticed the taller scowling with pink ears. “Cupcakes are over here,” he explained, nodding to the opposite corner of the shop before walking towards it. “What flavor do you think she’ll like?”

“Er…”

“You have no idea, do you?” Yixing continued when Kris seemed to struggle to come up with an answer, “Not too good with the ladies, I take it?”

“I- what? Nevermind that. I was hoping I was hoping _you_ could help me choose something.”

Yixing snorts back a rude comment and points to one of the items in the display with a strawberry elegantly placed atop a mound of brownie chunks and dark icing, “I’m going to go ahead and assume that you have no idea what she likes. Chocolate will probably be your safest choice.”

“Oh, uhm, okay. Well I guess I get chocolate then?”

Yixing raised an eyebrow in amusement, “Is that a question?”

The suited man scowled, “I’ll take half a dozen of those, alright?”

Yixing rounded the counter to grab a box, folding it up properly in an instant before returning to pack the order neatly into it. “Anything else I can get you, sir?” he asked as he closed the cardboard box, placing a shop sticker neatly in the middle across the folded opening.

“Actually yes, but I don’t think it’s on your menu…”

Yixing raised an eyebrow with interest, “Oh?”

“I… kinda need to learn how to make a cake…”

Yixing blinked a couple times before bringing his arms up to fold across his chest, “O…kay…? And this concerns me how?”

“I would like you to teach me.”

“Huh?” Yixing reflexively answered before he could think, having a hard time lowering the eyebrows in his confusion, “You want what now?”

The blond raised a hand to card into his perfectly coiffed hair, “They tell me you’re the best around here, and I want to learn from the best.”

“’They’ being who?”

“I don’t know! Just people!” The male gestured a little wildly and Yixing couldn’t help noting that even though he had just run his hand through his hair, it still looked perfect. “So, what do you say?”

Yixing uncrossed his arms and placed the box of chocolate cupcakes into a bag before pushing it towards the other side of the counter, “Eighteen dollars is your total, sir.”

…

“Back?” Yixing crossed his arms as he gazed up at the entrance of his bakery.

“Well, you never gave me a reply yesterday, so…”

Yixing rolled his eyes. “I don’t take apprentices,” he explained, rolling his eyes as he nudged past his customer and around the counter to rearrange a row of colourful artisan cakes in his refrigerated display.

“Oh come on, just one cake.”

Yixing narrowed his eyes skeptically, “Why do you want to make a cake so badly?”

The taller male shrugged, “Would it be cheesey if I said it’s because I find you cute and want to spend some time with you?”

Yixing felt a flush burn into his cheeks.

“Too much cheese? See, I’ve never made a cheesecake, so I don’t know how much cheese I would need.”

“Oh my god, please stop,” Yixing finally managed, putting his hands up to the grinning blond, “If I say yes, will you please stop being weird?” He immediately busied himself by ducking against, straightening the cakes that were already arranged perfectly in the display.

“Weird? What’s so weird about me trying to ask out a cute guy?”

Yixing let out a curse as his head hit the roof of the display when he jumped in surprise at the appearance of a face on the other side of the glass.

“You alright over there?”

Yixing pulled himself upright once more, rubbing the top of his head with his head ducked, using the accident as an excuse to hide his embarrassed expression. Swallowing twice, he finally looked up from between his bangs and managed a whisper, “O-okay.”

The boyish grin that spread across the blond face only made Yixing blush harder. “My name’s Kris, by the way.

  


# v.2

Yixing isn’t sure why he agreed to helping his boyfriend learn to bake a cake for his mother. He has known Kris for nearly a decade now, and there hasn’t been a meal that the blond has tried to make that hasn’t ended up burnt.

“Wow, uhm, Kris. That’s a real nice effort and everything, but don’t you think it’d be easier to buy something? Or I could just whip up something myself?”

Kris glares at Yixing, “No, I have to make this, okay?”

“Okay, then why don’t you try something a little easier? Like one of those boxed mixes for a simple vanilla cake? Why mousse? I mean, it took me years to get that right, and that’s my _job_.”

Kris continues to give Yixing a rude look before wiping his hands and using them to push Yixing towards the door of their shared apartment, “I know it’s the weekend, but don’t you have a shop to open up, Yixing?”

The baker rolls his eyes as he allowed himself to be ushered out of his own home, grabbing his jacket off the back of the door and shoving his toes into his shoes on the way out, “Just please make sure I still have an apartment to come back to tonight, okay?”

…

Yixing returns to the apartment with apprehension, half expecting a black scorch mark where the apartment is supposed to be and breathing out a sigh of relief when he opens the door and there isn’t a smell of burning assaulting his nose. “Kris?” he calls out gingerly into the darkness. His hand reaches out in search of the light switch to find it broken. “Oh great, he _did_ mess something up,” he mutters to himself as he kicks his shoes off, nothing that Kris’ are in the exact same place as they had been this morning when he left.

A flickering orange light from the kitchen catches his attention and Yixing worries that he was too quick to assume that Kris had managed to not burn down their home. He hurries towards the kitchen, nearly tripping on his way, “Kris?!” he calls out again, this time with more worry, as he reaches the doorway.

“Man you are _so_ predictable, Zhang Yixing,” Kris grins, standing up from his seat, careful not to drop the cake in his hands, hand held around the flame of the candle to keep it from going out as he walked towards Yixing.

“What?”

“You have no idea what day it is today, do you?” Kris shakes his head disapprovingly, even as his smile spreads wider.

“Today?” Yixing’s eyes narrow in concentration as he tries to figure out what Kris is saying, eyebrows shooting up when he finally realizes that it is his _birthday_. “Oh, _oh_! You weren’t baking for your mom were you?”

Kris rolls his eyes, “Duh.”

Yixing glares at the taller, “So you tricked me? What an asshole,” he adds, only half joking.

“I’m actually surprised you didn’t catch on that I was trying to make your favourite cake,” Kris answers, only to have Yixing narrow his eyes further in disgust. Kris sticks his bottom lip out in a pout as he moves beside Yixing to wrap his arm around the shorter, “Aw, come on, don’t be mad. I’m sorry, okay? But hey, I finally managed to get it right! I think anyway…” he trails as he brings the cake up to eye level with Yixing. “Try it?”

Yixing scowls at the chin resting on his shoulder, wishing he knew how to stay mad at his boyfriend. He lets out a sigh and takes the fork that Kris offers, carefully carving out a piece of the matcha green tea mousse before putting it in his mouth.

Kris watches with expectant eyes and Yixing doesn’t have the heart to run to the sink and run his mouth under the water for at least a whole minute right in front of his boyfriend. “Uhm…” he starts, unsure how to continue. “Maybe next time, try adding sugar and not salt?” he tries in an optimistic voice.

Kris lets out a sigh as he puts down the cake plate on the table, “I knew it. Next time, I’m just going to get you to make your own cake.”

Yixing snorts in disbelief as he tosses his fork into the sink, “Gee, thanks. How nice of you. That’s not going to get rid of this flavor in my mouth right now though. The hell did you put in this?!”

“Apparently, not enough sugar?” Kris leans down and presses his lips against Yixing’s. “Better?”

Yixing grimaces as he tries to pull away, “Ew gross. You need to work on your lines, Wu Yifan.”

Kris shrugs nonchalantly, “Why, I already got you, didn’t I? Who else am I trying to impress? _You_ already know I’m like this.”

Yixing groans again and makes a face of disgust, “Wow, tell me again why I even love you?”

Kris shrugs again, “I have absolutely no idea,” he returns with a grin, “But I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with how well I cook.”

Yixing simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “Whatever, I give up. You still owe me a cake though,” he mutters before standing on his tiptoes and kissing his boyfriend again.


	2. Predebut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "predebut fanxing inspired by this fanacct yixingdotjpg. tumblr. com/post/35124841605/yixing-chose-the-question-the-most-touching-moment"

Kris stood awkwardly at the entrance of the change room with a towel slung over his shoulder. He didn’t miss how the din of chatter dropped almost as soon as he had stepped in and he certainly noticed how the other guys in the room glanced at him and then muttered to each other in the language he was still trying to learn.

 

 _Probably something about me being a useless Chinese_ , he found himself thinking as his fingers tightened around the towel over his shoulder.  He took a deep breath and took a step forward, ignoring the looks the others gave him.

It’d been a couple of months since he’d accepted the offer to train with the company to chase his dreams, and he can’t remember why he thought leaving home to live on his own in a foreign country was a good idea. On the rare opportunity that the trainees were given a holiday, Kris stayed in the dorms alone, feeling jealous of the beds emptied by his fellows who went home to their families; twice already, he felt like he should just go home, but the threat of a heavy buy out kept him in place.

Kris was in and out of the showers within five minutes, keeping his head down and ignoring the grumbles that followed him out the door. Still towel-drying his hair, Kris wandered down the hallway, stopping at a bench and pulling out his phone. He pulled up his contacts but couldn’t bring himself to dial out; he didn’t want to bother his friends, who were already more than likely secretly harbouring hatred for him for making it halfway to stardom, and he didn’t want to worry his family, especially not ona Friday night. Shoving his phone into the pocket of his shorts in frustration, he groaned and stood up abruptly, towel falling from his head in the process. He made a beeline towards the nearest practice room and pushed headphones into his ears as he stepped in front of the mirrored wall, taking a deep breath as he recalled the dance they’d been rehearsing just fifteen minutes ago.

…

Kris didn’t realize he’d stay up for almost the entire night until he finally collapsed on the floor spread eagle. The curtains on the window were starting to let in a thin stream of peachy light. His heavy breathing was starting to make spots in his vision and he pressed his eyes closed, trying to focus on slowing his heart rate.

He was exhausted, and it wasn’t the same kind of fatigue he used to feel at the end of a satisfying round of three-on-three basketball. He hurt _everywhere_ and he knew it still wouldn’t be enough, despite the burning sensation in his lungs. He let out a long sigh and pulled himself upright, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on them, breathing slowing to a more normal rate.

Realising that he should probably grab a clean set of clothes for their training today, Kris got to his feet and found his way to the kitchen on the other side of the hallway to brew a cup of coffee. Taking the stairs down to the lobby two steps at a time, he nearly ran into one of his vocal teachers. Muttering an apology in broken Korean as he bowed, he tried to straighten his sweat-drenched t-shirt to look a little more presentable.

“Ah, Kris,” the teacher started, making Kris tense as he focused on the translating the words, “This is our newest trainee.”

Kris nodded slightly, peering around the teacher to find a boy looking back up at him, slightly chubby with a familiar nervous look about his eyes.  He remembered his first day at the company like it was yesterday, having a hard time keeping up with the huge change, and he offered the new addition a friendly smile. “Hi,” he greeted in Korean, the only word he’d managed to perfect so far.

The shorter male glanced up at Kris, mouth slightly agape for a moment before something in Mandarin slipped out, “Ah! Hao shuai ah.”

The eyebrows on Kris’ face raised a little in surprise, more at the fact that he hadn’t heard the familiar tongue in so long than what the words meant. “Oh, Chinese?” he practically exclaimed in the language of his home.

A bright red flush flooded onto the shorter’s face at the realization that his observation was understood, mouth shutting completely as his eyes widened in horror. The teacher smiled at the interaction, “Perfect, Zhang Yixing’s Chinese too, so you two will get along just fine.”

Kris smiled as he bowed again before taking his leave. “Zhang Yixing, huh?” he said to himself, turning around to watch the pair ascend the stairs, feeling something from last night lift from his shoulders.


	3. Arranged Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "can u do one arranged marriage fanxing? ;3; so far in fanxing world i find none n its saddening for my shipper heart lol."

Kris looked down in surprise at the mess of curly red hair; Yixing was pulling lightly at the tie around the neckline of the taller’s shirt.

“You should spend more time taking care of your looks, Mr. Wu,” the younger said quietly as he straightened the length of the tie before folding down the collar around it.

Kris scowled as he pulled his tie and stuffed it into his school uniform jacket, not bothering to acknowledge the other as he grabbed a slice of bread and head out of the house without a word. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with the redhead; it was hardly _his_ fault that his drunken excuse for a father gambled away his life in a game of _xianqi_. Granted, Kris’ father had never intended to take the man’s only child but the drunkard had preferred to be rid of his burden; “ _That damn piece of shit is spending all my money on_ food _of all things.”_

Kris should _really_ be angry at his father for being so soft. For the first three years of his high school days, Kris had led a normal student life, until his father came home and introduced the frail looking red head whose eyes were still wet from crying. “ _This is Yixing. You’ll look after him right? He’ll be joining our family soon.”_

From that day on, the little brat had followed him around, offering aid where Kris didn’t need it. The older refused to walk to school with the abandoned kid, hating that his own father was making him marry this stick figure so that he could officially become part of the family without having to go through a mountain of paperwork (especially difficult now given how Yixing’s father had disappeared).

Kris unlocked his bike and hopped onto the seat, peddling without a single glance backwards as he shoved his breakfast into his mouth, loosening the tie from his neck again in irritation.

…

Kris glared incredulously at the entrance to his classroom, daring that damn red head to take a single step closer.

“Uhm,” Yixing started, eyes shaded under his hair.

“Hi! Are you looking for someone?” Kris wanted to hit Lu Han who had wandered over to the younger student, the former leaning his arm casually on the latter’s shoulder.  “Or are you just lost, cutey?”

Kris scowled at the exchange, getting up to his feet and straightening the “Class President” flag wrapped around his right upper arm. “Sit down and eat your lunch, Lu Han,” he ordered with a roll of his eyes and pointing to the seat that belonged to the grinning idiot.

Blatantly ignoring Kris’ request, Lu Han leaned in closer, making Yixing flinch visibly, “Awww, he’s so shy! Can we keep him, Mr. President?” he grinned suggestively, matching his jokingly taunting tone of voice.

Kris felt himself growl low in his throat, annoyed at the way Yixing was clearly uncomfortable but didn’t want to say anything to his upperclassman. He picked up his pace, throwing Lu Han’s arm from Yixing’s shoulders with more force than he had intended. “Go. Sit.” Kris bit through his teeth, positioning himself between his classmate and the brat he now shared his house with.

Lu Han acknowledged the tone of Kris voice and, holding his hands up in submission, he backed away, jogging back to his seat where he shifted his chair as close as possible to Minseok.

Kris scowled and turned abruptly, grabbing Yixing around the elbow roughly and dragging him to the nearest stairwell. “What are you doing? I told you never to come look for me when we’re at school.”

Yixing hung his head, holding out his shaking arms that carried a box, “Y-you forgot your lunch this morning, so I-I thought you might want be h-hungry.”

Kris put his arms on his hips as he rolled his eyes in exasperation, “Isn’t this _your_ lunch, Zhang Yixing?”

A bright flush coloured the younger’s cheeks and he dropped his head further into his chest, “S-sorry! I was almost late for class and I dropped yours!” He frantically placed the box down on the closest step and scurried back towards the door the two had stepped through, hitting his head with the door when he swung it open in his nervous haste.

Kris cringed at the noticeable ‘ _bang!’_ , letting out a long sigh at the younger’s klutziness. “Wait,” he called out, freezing his audience automatically. “If you give me this, what are you going to have?”

Yixing backed away from the door, letting it close quietly behind him, “I-it’s okay. I’m not hungry anyway.”

Kris laughed at the timing of the grumbling emanating from Yixing’s midsection that caused Yixing to blush even brighter, if that were possible. He took a seat next to the lunchbox, gesturing with his head at the spot next to him, “Sit down,” he muttered.

Yixing looked up at Kris for the first time since showing up at the latter’s classroom unannounced, “What?”

“You’re hungry,” Kris explained flatly, “And I can’t finish all this myself.” He rolled his eyes at the dumb expression on the other’s face. “I’m asking you to sit down and join me,” he grumbled, shaking his head at how _slow_ Yixing was at understanding things. _No wonder his dad didn’t want him_. The thought sprang into his head of its own mind and made Kris ground his teeth as he reminded himself to be more understanding.

A glow not due to an embarrassing blush filled Yixing’s expression as he smiled, a dimple that Kris never noticed before forming in his cheek as he hurried over to sit next to Kris, pulling pulled his knees into his chest and trying to hide his grin between them.

The senior class president did his best not to laugh at how boyish the younger male was acting as he handed him the spoon, keeping the pair of chopsticks to himself.

“Oh!” Yixing cried, staring at the single set of utensils, “I’ll go grab another set from the home-ec room!” he offered, scrambling to his feet.

Kris reached out automatically to grab Yixing’s hand, clearing his throat uncomfortably when he noticed how small and cold Yixing’s fingers felt between his own. “It’s fine. One set is fine, we’ll just share,” Kris swallowed the lump in his throat with a shrug, “I mean, we’re supposed to get married one day, right?” He picked up a hot dog that had been cut into the shape of an octopus, wondering how long it had taken Yixing to make it this morning before setting it upright on Yixing’s spoon.

Yixing chose to avoid giving an answer by shoving the food into his mouth and chewing deliberately slowly. Kris sighed and the two continued to eat in silence for a moment before the older spoke up again.

“Why didn’t you say anything back there in the classroom?” he asked, an accusatory tone in his voice, “You were clearly uncomfortable with his arm on you like that.” He placed an omelet roll onto Yixing’s spoon.

“It’s okay,” Yixing answered quietly with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter anyway.”

Kris’ forehead crinkled, perplexed, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? You might send someone the wrong signals if you’re not careful.”

Yixing’s head dropped into his chest again, “It doesn’t matter?” he repeated in his quiet voice. “I mean,” he paused, playing with his spoon, “It’ll be me and y-you in the end right? Doesn’t matter what other people think?”

Kris froze in place, chopsticks carrying a ball of rice that had been decorated to look like a panda hanging halfway to his open mouth.

“S-sorry!” Yixing jumped to his feet, metal spoon clattering to the floor as he bowed in apology, “I-I’ve said too much!” He picked up his spoon and brought a hand to scratch at his head awkwardly, “I-I’m done, t-thanks for lunch Mr. Wu.”

Kris stared after the redhead, trying not to laugh as the latter dropped his spoon to the ground again, nearly tripping over his own feet as he reached down to picked it up once more. The class president waited until the door had closed to pop the rice ball into his mouth with a content smile.

Maybe he’ll forget his lunch tomorrow too.


	4. Mailman AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fanxing Mailman!au! Angsty?"

The house at the end of Kris’ mail delivery route has its doors painted a deep purple. It’s his favourite house on the street, with its fancy stone porch and most importantly, the house has recently become home to one of the cutest guys he’s had the opportunity to encounter in his twenty three years of life.

“Ah, 10:43, right on time everyday, aren’t you?”

Kris felt himself grin stupidly as he headed up the steps to the house and handed a stack of letters to the shorter male that he assumes is named Zhang Yixing, according to the name on each of the envelops in the pile. “Enjoy your mail, Mr. Zhang,” he adds in afterthought as he starts to turn away.

“Aw thanks, I’ll make sure the dog doesn’t chase you down the street!” Yixing replies.

Kris pauses halfway down the stairs and raises an eyebrow in surprise, not sure how to respond to the unexpected conversation, “Uhm, sorry, what?”

Yixing laughs and Kris can’t help but smile at the dimple that forms in the other’s cheek, “You know? Those shows that have dogs chasing after the mailman and ends up attacking the poor guy?”

The eyebrow on Kris’ eye seems to raise even higher and Yixing just rolls his eyes as he sits down on his porch steps and starts to sift through his mail, “Nevermind,” he mutters, distracted by one of the letters that he pulls away from the rest that he places beside him. “Thanks for the mail,” he finishes, already turned away from Kris who nods in response before realising that Yixing can’t see him.

“You’re welcome,” Kris tries instead, only to have his audience not notice him, ripping into the letter with a grin on his face.

 

It’s the beginning of a regular schedule between the mailman and the resident in the Purple House, as Kris calls it. Kris purposely makes the Purple House the last stop on his route, enjoying how the redhead always seems to be excited to see him, even if he knows it’s only because Kris is the bringer of the letters he seems to enjoy getting so much.

“They’re from my mum!” Yixing explains one day, “She writes me at least once a week.”

Kris hums in response, still unsure of how to hold a proper conversation with Yixing even after nearly a month of hand delivering the latter’s mail.

“She worries too much about me, especially now that I’ve left so far from home,” Yixing continues, “I always tell her that I’m okay but she’s my mother, right? She thinks it’s her job to worry about me.”

Kris shifts a little uncomfortably in his spot, not sure if he should be providing some sort of response or if he should just stand and listen quietly.

Yixing lets out a sigh as he drops to sit on his porch, as usual. “I can’t blame her, because to be honest, I feel guilty for lying to her all the time. I mean, I chose to live all the way out here, but I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s been a whole month since I’ve gotten here and I have no clue what this city has to offer, so I make things up when she asks about what I do here in my spare time.”

Kris’ ears perk up at the passing comment, not hearing anything else that Yixing has started to say, “You want to see the city?”

Yixing stops in midsentence and gapes at Kris.

“Well, I mean, I’ve lived here my entire life, so, like, I mean, if you wanted to…?” Kris mumbles, suddenly aware of how unlike himself to propose such an idea.

Yixing stares at Kris until the latter can start to feel heat rising up his neck and into his ears. “Because, well you were saying how you didn’t know what there was here in the city, and I just thought maybe I could show you?”

A grin spreads widely on Yixing’s face, “About time,” he replies, hopping down from the porch stairs and making his way towards Kris.

Kris can’t control the confused ‘huh’ that falls out of his mouth or the look of bewilderment when Yixing laughs again and crosses his arms on his chest when he nears Kris. “It took you a _whole month_ to ask me out. Do you think I have all the time in the world to stand out here everyday waiting for you to bring me mail?!” Yixing seems to be amused by the continually blank look that Kris gives him and laughs lightly as he backs away again and picks up the letters he left on the steps, “How about seven tonight? Meet me here?”

Kris watches as Yixing opens the door to his house and disappears through it momentarily before sticking his head out once more, “Oh, I never asked, what’s your name?”

The question seems to break the taller out of his reverie and he clears his throat, “Oh, uhm. Kris,” he answers.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at seven then, Kris!”


	5. Infidelity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fanxing angst pls like kris cheating pls pls"

_ Knock. _

_ Knock. Knock. _

_ Knockknock. _

_ Knockknockknockknock. _

“I know you’re home,” he mutters to himself under his breath as he raises his hand to rapt at the apartment door again. “Please just open the door, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Just go home already, stop coming around here, Lu Han has to sleep.” The voice he’s longed so much to hear is curt and dismissive but it doesn’t matter because it’s _his_ voice.

“Just talk to me, _please._ Tell me what’s wrong, tell me how to _fix this_.”

“You can’t just _fix_ this, Kris,” comes the broken voice through the crack in the door that Yixing has finally allowed, even though a chain keeps Kris from being able to push it open further. “I saw you the other night.”

Something catches in the back of his throat and he swallows hard, “What night?” he asks, voice so low even he can barely hear it himself. The feeling in his gut knows exactly what night Yixing is asking about but he has to be sure.

“You _know_ what night, Kris.” The voice that answers cracks in midsentence and Kris feels a tight knot in his chest as he stumbles backwards, letting Yixing slam the door closed again.

His hand reaches out hesitantly towards the door, palm pressing against the cold wood as he leans his forehead against the brass numbers. “Let me in, Xing. Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Kris.” His voice sounds tired but Kris can tell by how close he sounds that Yixing is right on the other side of the door.

His hand closes into a fist above his head against the door, knuckles deathly white as his fingernails cut into the flesh, “I can explain. Just let me in.”

There’s complete silence on the other side and Kris fears that he’s actually lost Yixing. His breath gets caught in his throat and he nearly chokes, “Please, Yixing, _please_.” He stays at the door, breath coming in short gasps for air as he waits for a response, head pressed against the cold hard metal, the cutting sensation reminding him that he hasn’t yet died of the pain in his chest. It feels like an hour before he hears a shuffling on the other side, even though it can’t have been more than a couple of minutes.

“Okay,” comes a whisper, “I’m listening.”

“Xing, I-” he starts, but finds he doesn’t even have the heart to come up with an excuse. He swallows hard against the lump that has made itself home there. His mind suddenly flashes back to all the terrible things he’s had Yixing put up with ever since they’d been together: the missed dinners, the late nights at the bar with his friends, the forgotten birthdays and anniversaries. He can’t believe that _this_ is the way he repays his boyfriend for all his troubles, by bringing a stranger from the bar back home, thinking that it wouldn’t matter, that Yixing could never find out if he was visiting family out of town.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kris manages to stutter out, “I really messed up this time. Isn’t there something I can do?”

He hears a soft sigh followed by a muted _thud_ that sounds vaguely like Yixing’s head against the door. “You know, I really thought maybe you’d have a proper story, something to explain why I came home from my aunt’s early to find you kissing some other guy in _our_ apartment.” Kris can hear the shaking breath that Yixing takes and it brings a stinging to his own eyes at the thought of Yixing trying to hold back tears. “I… I can’t do this, Kris. All the fighting, and the empty promises. This… I can’t trust you anymore, not after you… It was our _home_ , Kris. How…?”

Kris can see where this is going and he claws desperately at the door handle, “Xing, please, please don’t, please! It was nothing! I was stupid and drunk, okay? He meant absolutely nothing to me!”

“I know, Kris. That’s exactly why I have to leave.”

The salty tears that have started to stain Kris’ lips feel like poison and he stares at the hanging numbers, “What? If you know it meant nothing, then why…?”

“Because you threw us away for _nothing,_ Kris,” Yixing yells before he pauses and drops his voice to a whimpering whisper again, “ _Nothing_ , Kris. That’s what we meant to you apparently.”

Kris swallows again, teeth grinding together until his jaw starts to hurt. He has so many things he wants to say, but though his voice is low, Kris knows that Yixing has his mind set already. He takes a deep breath and pushes away from the door, hand lingering on the door handle a moment before he wills himself to pull away completely.

 

#  Alt ending

_ Knock. _

_ Knock. Knock. _

_ Knockknock. _

_ Knockknockknockknock. _

“I know you’re home,” he mutters to himself under his breath as he raises his hand to rapt at the apartment door again. “Please just open the door, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Just go home already, stop coming around here, Lu Han has to sleep.” The voice he’s longed so much to hear is curt and dismissive but it doesn’t matter because it’s _his_ voice.

“Just talk to me, _please._ Tell me what’s wrong, tell me how to _fix this_.”

“You can’t just _fix_ this, Kris,” comes the broken voice through the crack in the door that Yixing has finally allowed, even though a chain keeps Kris from being able to push it open further. “I saw you the other night.”

Something catches in the back of his throat and he swallows hard, “What night?” he asks, voice so low even he can barely hear it himself. The feeling in his gut knows exactly what night Yixing is asking about but he has to be sure.

“You _know_ what night, Kris.” The voice that answers cracks in midsentence and Kris feels a tight knot in his chest as he stumbles backwards, letting Yixing slam the door closed again.

His hand reaches out hesitantly towards the door, palm pressing against the cold wood as he leans his forehead against the brass numbers. “Let me in, Xing. Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Kris.” His voice sounds tired but Kris can tell by how close he sounds that Yixing is right on the other side of the door.

His hand closes into a fist above his head against the door, knuckles deathly white as his fingernails cut into the flesh, “I can explain. Just let me in.”

There’s complete silence on the other side and Kris fears that he’s actually lost Yixing. His breath gets caught in his throat and he nearly chokes, “Please, Yixing, _please_.” He stays at the door, breath coming in short gasps for air as he waits for a response, head pressed against the cold hard metal, the cutting sensation reminding him that he hasn’t yet died of the pain in his chest. It feels like an hour before he hears a shuffling on the other side, even though it can’t have been more than a couple of minutes.

“Okay,” comes a whisper, “I’m listening.”

“Xing, I-” he starts, but finds he doesn’t even have the heart to come up with an excuse. He swallows hard against the lump that has made itself home there. His mind suddenly flashes back to all the terrible things he’s had Yixing put up with ever since they’d been together: the missed dinners, the late nights at the bar with his friends, the forgotten birthdays and anniversaries. He can’t believe that _this_ is the way he repays his boyfriend for all his troubles, by bringing a stranger from the bar back home, thinking that it wouldn’t matter, that Yixing could never find out if he was visiting family out of town.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kris manages to stutter out, “I really messed up this time. Isn’t there something I can do?”

He hears a soft sigh followed by a muted _thud_ that sounds vaguely like Yixing’s head against the door, “Do you remember how we met, Kris?”

The tall blond’s forehead crinkles at the oddity of the question, out of place in the situation, “Of course, Yixing,” he starts, relieved that at least the two were talking now, “You were arguing with one of the sales associates at the electronics store, and-”

“You were the manager there who had to come deal with the crazy customer,” Yixing finished, a soft laugh ending the story. “That was almost seven years ago, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kris replies, not sure where this conversation is heading.

“That’s two career changes for you and nineteen international business trips for me.”

“I-… I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at, Yixing,”Kris admits with worry.

There’s hesitance before Yixing speaks up again, “We’ve both changed a lot, haven’t we?”

Kris lets out a sigh as he shuts his eyes when he realizes what Yixing is trying to say. He turns to lean against the door, back sliding against the length until he hits the hallway floor, “Yeah,” he replies quietly, “I guess.” He traces the patterns in the dingy hallway tiling with a finger idly, opposite elbow resting on his knee and forehead in his palm.

There’s a quiet click before Kris feels the door peel away from his back. He looks up behind him to find Yixing looking down at him with a conflicted look before joining Kris on the floor of his own apartment, legs crossing under him. The older of the couple turns in his seated position, leaning his back against the door once more as he watches Yixing watch him.

“Is he nice?” Yixing finally asks, breaking the silence.

“He’s okay,” Kris answers halfheartedly with a shrug, “He’s not you though.”

Yixing hums in response as he turns his attention to somewhere in the living room behind Kris.

“I still love you, Yixing,” Kris offers after a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. Yixing returns the gesture when he gets up and reseats himself next to Kris.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles as he leans his head on the taller’s shoulder, “Me too.”

“So… now what?” Kris asks, fingers playing deftly with his shoelaces as he leans he head lightly against Yixing’s.

“Lu Han’s going on a month-long vacation in a couple days, so I guess I’ll stay here until I can find a new place,” he answers quietly.

Kris only nods, letting a silence fall between them for the next hour as the sit side by side, each trying to enjoy this last shared moment.


	6. Sexingfan [NC-17]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see: http://31.media.tumblr.com/378dace0d1c4f7c3f70c7903646ba03d/tumblr_mw4ygbalsy1rmh6h3o1_500.png

Yixing leans against his car door, foot tapping impatiently as he checks his watch a third time in the last fifteen minutes. “Where the hell is that brat?!” he asks out loud to no one in particular. He’s been standing outside the empty high school grounds for over half an hour already, waiting for his boyfriend’s younger step-brother to finish his extra-credit tutoring.

Kris is supposed to be arriving in the airport in just under and hour from now, and even though Yixing had promised to look after his boyfriend’s little brother in Kris’ absence, Yixing would really prefer to be on his way to the airport by now.  And even if it isn’t the day that Kris is coming home, Yixing had better things to do than to pick up the spoiled Sehun from school, like his own university homework.

Grumbling something along the lines of killing the high school junior if he makes Yixing miss Kris’ flight, the red head kicks away from his car and marches himself angrily towards the entrance of the school, determined to give the seventeen year old hell once he finds him.

It’s behind the eleventh door that Yixing finally finds Sehun, back turned towards the classroom’s entrance as he stood over his desk.

“Yo. What’s taking you so long?” he asks in an annoyed tone as he folds his arms across his chest, checking his watch a fourth time impatiently. “Hurry up, I have to go to the airport and pick up-”

Yixing’s voice in the empty and dimply lit room startles Sehun who stumbles backwards against the table behind him, revealing a soft figure who was previously hidden from Yixing’s view behind Sehun’s tall figure.

“Your brother…” Yixing manages to finish as his eyes lower slightly just in time to catch Sehun pull glistening fingers from in between the girl’s legs, her skirt falling barely enough to cover herself up again.

The younger male’s alarmed face loosens once more as he recognizes his intruder, “Oh, it’s just you,” he mutters as he turns around towards the whimpering girl, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the lips before thrusting his soiled fingers into her mouth, making her moan thirstily with her eyes closed. “Sorry, I have to go,” he whispers low, “Mr. Spoilsport is here to take me away,” he shrugs, pulling his hand back to himself and wiping it with boredom as he throws his bag over his shoulder. He shoulders past Yixing who continues to stare at the abandoned girl with a raised eyebrow. “Well?” he growls to get Yixing’s attention turned towards himself, “We going, or what?”

Yixing can’t help but scowl at the younger boys nonchalance at leaving the indecent girl behind. He sends the girl an apologetic smile before closing the door behind him and then slapping his hand across the back of the teenager’s head.

“Hey! What was that for?!” the boy yelps, rubbing the spot with his hand as the two starts towards the exit.

“I thought you said you were tutoring a freshman after school today,” Yixing answers with a disapproving shake of his head.

Sehun grins in a mischievous way that reminds Yixing of Kris momentarily. “I _was_ tutoring her,” Sehun laughs, taking a step to the side before Yixing can hit him again.

“You’re a fucking animal, Oh Sehun,” Yixing mutters in annoyance as he opens the front door, not bothering to hold it open for the younger and letting it extract a satisfying yelp as it hits the boy in the head.

…

Sehun can’t help the smile that forms stupidly on his face even as he follows behind his step-brother’s boyfriend to his car, rubbing the growing bump on his head from the slamming door. If he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that Yixing was in love with Kris, he would have ventured to guess that Yixing was jealous.

He throws his backpack into the back of the car, climbing into the passenger seat and ignoring the disapproving _tch_ that the driver lets out.

“So,” Sehun starts after a full five minutes of silent driving, “See something back there you liked?” he asks, turning towards Yixing as he rests his head on his knuckles, elbow leaning onto the ledge of the window.

Yixing gives no reply but the barely noticeable swerve makes Sehun grin wider. Ever since his step brother brought Yixing home to introduce him to the family, Sehun has found the art major cute. Sehun has to admit, if it weren’t for the fact that Yixing was with Kris, Sehun might not have tried so hard to impress him; Sehun has been an only child for his entire life until his father married Kris’ mom almost nine months ago and he is still getting used to not having everything he wants, especially if it is something that Kris has that he doesn’t.

Sehun reaches his hand towards Yixing to stroke the cartilage on his right ear, making the latter shudder. “When can I come over to your room again, _hyung_?” Sehun whispers suggestively as the two pull up on the driveway, alluding to Yixing’s birthday dinner last night where Kris had gotten stuck at the airport and missed dinner with his boyfriend.

Yixing scowls at the teenager as he pulls his keys from the ignition, “Just grab your shit, Sehun.”

Sehun laughs again as Yixing slams his side of the car, jogging up to the house door and unlocking it. He doesn’t bother hiding his amusement as he pulls his bag from the back and makes his way slowly to the house. He’s still smiling as he pushes the door open, “I’m sorry, Yixing. You’re just fun to tease, okay?” he calls into the emptiness, dropping his bag at his feet before climbing the stairs towards Yixing’s room where he knows the latter must be moping.

The room is empty when he gets there until he hears the click of the door closing behind him. “Tease? You don’t even know how to do that properly, you brat,” Yixing mutters as he advances on Sehun, “Like that girl back there? Do you call that teasing? Fingering her and then just leaving her there?”

Sehun raises an eyebrow as he looks down on the older, enjoying how the latter’s breath is hot on his neck. “You want to try it too?” he asks, voice breathy as he backs towards the bed, taking a seat at the end and smirking widely as he loosens the school uniform tie around his neck even further.

The way Yixing bites his lip makes the fabric around his hips tight and he reaches out a long pale arm to pull the older towards him. Yixing stumbles a bit in surprise and Sehun relishes in the added weight to his lap. “You want to, right?” he asks again, lips pressed against Yixing’s ear.

Yixing’s answer is to bite at Sehun’s neck before pushing him backwards onto the bed. “No, I’m going to show you what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your childish playing,” he mutters, swiftly pulling the loosened tie and tying it around Sehun’s wrists above his head, kissing each finger lightly before getting up on his knees to look down at the teenager in between them.

Sehun swallows hard as he watches Yixing hovering above clearly trying to make up his mind on what he wants to do next and he wants to tell him to _hurry_. He shifts a little, biting back the slight groan from the tight fabric against him. The gesture makes Yixing raise an eyebrow in amusement, “You want me to take them off for you?” he asks and Sehun glares; he refuses to beg. Yixing leans down towards him and places his lips against Sehun’s as his hand reaches down to palm the younger through his school uniform, “Hmm, Sehunie? Tell me what you want?” Yixing asks as he presses his hand against him, moving impossibly slow.

Sehun bites his tongue until it feels like it’s about to bleed, hips rising off the bedsheets to meet Yixing’s hands through the fabric. “F-fuck, Yixing,” he finally succumbs, whimpering as Yixing removes the pressure, “I want you to undo my hands so I can fuck you mindless before Kris comes home.”

Yixing snickers as he peels himself off the bed to undo the belt around his jeans, “Tch. I told you Sehun. I have to show you what it feels like when you play around like a child,” he says before he loosens the button on Sehun’s pants, pulling the cloth down just far enough to free Sehun’s erection from its confines.

Sehun can’t help the shiver that runs through his body as Yixing runs his tongue up the length of his cock, his deft fingers pulling his pants to pool around his ankles before moving to spread his legs.

“Fuck, Yixing, what are you d-” his question is cut off by his own sharp gasp as he feels something press into him.

“Mm, you’ve never done this before, have you Sehunie?” Yixing laughs, “I know, because your body is telling me so.”

Sehun hears himself whine at the unfamiliar sensation; unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. Yixing’s fingernail scrapes against him and a shudder wracks his body as he starts to move against Yixing to guide him.

A hungry kiss from Yixing steals the moan from Sehun as the former adds a second finger, “Open up for me, Sehun,” he mutters in between breaths, fingers curling inside Sehun that draws another throaty groan from him. Sehun hardly knows what to do next, but ignores the confused feeling to press against Yixing’s kiss harder, keening when the older’s fingers find that spot inside him again.

The high school junior curses out loud when a phone rings on the table beside the bed, pulling Yixing’s warm lips away from his own. He catches the whine in his throat and continues to rock back against the older’s fingers, only to have the latter laugh lightly at him before picking up his phone and holding it between his ear and shoulder.

“Hey, Kris,” Yixing answers easily as he peels his own pair of jeans away before straddling Sehun’s chest. Sehun was never a genius in his class but it’s obvious what Yixing wants now with his fingers pulling out from Sehun and fisting into the younger’s hair. The teenager glares up at the older defiantly only to have the grip in his hair tighten.

“Oh, nothing,” Yixing continues conversationally over his phone, “Just hanging out with your brother,” he explains with a grin down at Sehun and pushing his hips forward until the younger succumbs and takes the older in past his lips, drawing a ragged breath from him.

It’s then that Yixing decides to put his phone down on the table again, hitting the speakerphone option.

“Yixing? Are you okay?”

Kris’ voice fills the room and Sehun glances upwards to find Yixing looking down at him with a finger pressed to his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine. When you coming home?”

The thought of getting Yixing in trouble with his step brother makes the blood rush south and he sucks down on the redhead’s cock, making the latter bite down on his own hand.

“I’m just waiting for a cab to bring me home to you.”

“What are you wearing, Kris?” Yixing continues as his grip loosens in Sehun’s hair.

A brief silence on the other end makes Sehun imagine that his brother is wrinkling his forehead in confusion and he laughs mutedly, the tremble in his throat making Yixing breathe out heavily as his head drops backwards.

“Wearing?” Kris asks, “Why’s that matter?”

“Just thinking about you is all. Wanted to come pick you up at the airport myself.”

There’s another pause and Yixing plays with the strands on Sehun’s head as he waits.

“Are you touching yourself, Xing?”

The twinkling laugh reverberates all the way down to Sehun. “Something like that,” Yixing mutters before pulling away, leaning down to kiss Sehun sweetly on the mouth before moving to trail his lips down his neck.

“Fuck, Xing. Why aren’t you _here_?” Kris’ voice is throaty and accompanied soon after by a _click_ that Sehun is pretty sure sounds like a door locking wherever Kris has escaped to. The fact that Kris is making an effort to keep his conversation private while his boyfriend is doing the exact opposite sets Sehun’s veins on fire.

“Where you are? The airport bathroom?” Yixing asks as he moves his hands to Sehun’s ass again and the teenager finds himself getting filled with a third finger, twisting as they push repeatedly into him, “What would you do if I was there with you, Kris?” he whispers low, eyes steadily staring into Sehun’s, now tearing from the stretch. “Would you fuck me right there?”

Kris’ voice is hoarse as he speaks, “Yes. I’d push you up against the wall here, and _take_ you.”

Sehun nearly chokes as he watches Yixing bring his free hand to close around himself, starting slow but pace quickening as he opens his mouth to reply, “Yeah? But what about the huge line-up outside the door? We’d have to be fast, hmm?”

“Yeah, o’ course. You against the wall, biting your lip to keep from screaming out as I fuck you against the wall and touch you at the same time,” Kris hums into the microphone.

The visual image being painted in his head makes Sehun’s mind spin; Yixing pressed up against the wall, fingers searching for purchase against the tiled walls as Kris pushes into him. Yixing’s fingers in him do nothing to take away the heat and he cants into them as he watches the older boy works the hand around himself faster.

“Fuck, _Kris_ ,” Yixing practically hisses as his eyes squeeze shut, thumb sliding over the head and pressing against the slit before he looks down at Sehun as though having forgotten the younger’s presence. Jaw clenching so hard that Sehun can see the veins, Yixing pulls his fingers back and presses the head of his throbbing member at the younger’s entrance.

“ _Xing_ ,” Kris returns with just as much urgency and Sehun feels the excitement that Yixing feels at the word as the redhead slams into him. Tears sting Sehun’s eyes but Yixing hasn’t seemed to notice, bottoming out and waiting but a second for Sehun to get used to his size.

“Shit,” Yixing curses before he kisses lightly at Sehun’s ear and whispers his next words so his caller can’t hear, “So good, Sehun. So tight.”

Sehun’s fingers curl tightly into the sheets as Yixing rocks against him, each press against his prostate sending him closer to oblivion until he comes untouched onto his stomach.

Yixing presses a hand over Sehun’s mouth just in time, adding messy kisses on his neck as he rides out his own orgasm, spilling into Sehun when the latter’s muscles pulse around him.

Silence fills the room as the trio catch their breaths.

“Hey Kris?” Yixing calls out to receive only a hum of acknowledgement, “Hurry home, okay?”

There’s a derisive snort from the speaker, “Like I need you to tell me.”


	7. Peppero Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fanxing on peppero day! or playing the peppero game. some jealous kris would be nice too haha :)"

“No, Yixing,” Kris repeats for the fifth time in the last ten minutes turning his attention deliberately away from his boyfriend to stare at the television in Yixing’s living room. “That game is stupid and pointless, I’m not playing it.”

 

Yixing pouts, chocolate coated cracker stick hanging out of his mouth, “You suck,” he complains, nudging Kris lightly on the knee indignantly before wandering to his roommate’s room. “Hey, Lu Han, you got a minute?”

Kris scowls from his position, hardly paying attention to the screen in front of him as he strains to listen in on the conversation two doors down.

“I’m supposed to be studying for my MCATs but what do you want?” Lu Han’s voice answers with slight exasperation.

“Let’s play the peppero game!” Yixing exclaims and Kris is pretty sure he knows his boyfriend well enough to know that the shorter redhead has jumped onto his roommate’s bed.

“Zhang Yixing. We are not dating and we are not kids. Why on earth would I play that with you?” Lu Han answers in a bored tone and Kris smiles to himself victoriously.

Yixing makes a whining sound and Kris can imagine the pout the redhead is surely shooting at his best friend in his best effort to convince the latter to do what he wants. “Because I’m asking? And because my actual boyfriend is being a complete ass and won’t play with me?”

Kris yells an indignant “Hey!” across the hall but neither of the males in the bedroom seem to take notice.

“Awww, Lu Han, please? Just once?” Yixing continues to whine.

Lu Han lets out a long sigh, “If I say yes, will you leave me alone to study after?”

The ease with which Lu Han obliges bothers Kris, especially since he’s always been a little jealous of how close the two best friends have been, making _him_ feel like the third wheel sometimes, even if it’s him and Yixing who are in a relationship. The tall blond has half the mind to walk into there and interrupt the conversation and steal Yixing back, but he holds his ground in wait.

Yixing must have nodded because then Lu Han is grumbling to himself before he mutters a “Fine” and the sound of a foiled package opening is heard. There’s silence for a couple seconds before the sound of Yixing’s muffled giggle echoes into the living room with Kris sits in his couch, back erect anxiously before he finally gets up and marches towards Lu Han’s room.

“I swear to god,” Kris grumbles to himself, “If you are so much as a foot from kissing my boyfriend, I am going to rip you apart.”

He pushes the already cracked open door further, intent on having to pull the two apart aggressively, but Lu Han is sitting calmly at his desk while Yixing has his knees tucked into his chest on Lu Han’s bed, a wide grin spread upon his face.

“Got you!” Yixing cries gleefully as he drags himself off the bed and stands up before Kris.

The tall blond shoots a look of bewilderment towards Lu Han who only shrugs with a slight amused smile before turning around to bend over his textbooks again.

“Please, Kris? Just one game, okay?” Yixing continues to whine, “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?”

Kris scowls at his younger boyfriend, prepared to decline the suggestion _for the last time_ , but Lu Han is first to speak, not bothering to turn to face the couple, “Oh. My. God. Kris. Just play the damn game with him before he breaks my ears with all his whining. If you don’t do it, I swear I’ll take your place if it means that it’ll shut him up and I can get some quiet to study.”

Kris shakes his head at Yixing disapprovingly, “See, Yixing? You’re bothering Lu Han too.”

Yixing frowns again, pushing his bottom lip out and peering up at Kris through his hair, “Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl-”

“ _Kris._ ” Lu Han warns from his desk and the tall blond takes the hint, grabbing the package from Yixing’s hand and ripping it open to pull out one of the chocolate covered crackers and sticking one end in between his lips.

Yixing giggles and rises on his tiptoes, reminding the tallest of the three to bend his knees to accommodate for their height difference. Yixing’s eyes are reduced to semi-circles as he smiles, dimple deepening in his cheek as he takes hold of the other end (the one with more chocolate because Kris knows his boyfriend has a sweet tooth). “Ready?” he asks, eyes twinkling happily.

Kris can’t help but grin at how excited Yixing is at the childish game but he nods once, careful not to break the snack  stick before they have even started.

“Okay, go!”

Kris barely has to even nibble because Yixing is chomping down quickly on the Peppero stick and it’s not long before he’s at Kris’ lips, breaking the snack stick off before kissing Kris lightly, “See! Not so bad right?”

Kris looks away as he crunches on the rest of his side, grumbling something about ‘a stupid game still,’ but still blushing a million shades of red.


	8. Vegas Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fanxing accidentally marrying each other in las vegas."

Yixing woke up to knocking on his hotel room door and unforgiving sunset streaming in through the window. Falling off his bed and spending another couple of seconds trying to figure out how which way was up, he yelled a slurred “Coming!” as he used the walls for support, cursing whoever was at the door for making so much racket first thing in the morning.

The door opened to Zitao who raised an eyebrow in confusion, hand still poised to knock again. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

Yixing swore again at the ridiculous questions first thing in the morning, “We decided to come to Vegas for a company team building trip? What the hell is wrong with you?” He brought a hand to rub his middle finger and his thumb at his temples, a headache making itself at home from the drunk night he didn’t remember from yesterday.

“Uhm, no, I mean, what are you doing in Kris-hyung’s room?” Zitao clarified, crossing his arms and watching Yixing with a now amused look, a knowing grin starting to pull onto his face.

A loud groan came from somewhere behind him, “Who the fuck is making so much noise first thing in the morning?!”

Yixing swung his head around to the bed, realising for the first time since he fell out of it that he hadn’t been its sole occupant. His first instinct was to look down and to his relief, he found he was standing in the presence of his junior coworker _not_ in the nude, thought Kris’ boxers hardly qualify as “appropriate.”

Yixing turns frantically between the bed and the doorway where Zitao is still standing, barely concealed laughter hiding behind his wide smirk.

“This is _so_ not what it looks like,” Yixing starts to explain, sobering up enough to remember that he and Kris were supposed to be in a _secret_ relationship. “Kris got totally wasted last night and I had to bring him back to his room and I just stuck around to make sure he didn’t choke on his own throw up,” he made up, trying to act nonchalant about a night he didn’t remember. “I mean, I slept on the couch, it was totally fine.”

Zitao hummed, “Right, whatever. Just let Kris know that the guys are heading over to the casino to try our luck if he wants to come join us later.” He waved quickly before taking his leave again.

Yixing closed the door and let out a long sigh before heading back to the bed where Kris had pulled himself upright, head in his hands, fingers rubbing into his eyes to wipe away the sleep as he groaned, “Who was that?” he muttered as he turned to the side table where a bottle of painkillers sat next to a two glasses of water, clearly having been prepared the night before in their drunken yet sentient state.

“Oh, Zitao wanted to invite you to the casino with them,” Yixing explained as he took a couple capsules that Kris offered his way, picking up the second glass for himself. “Fuck, what the hell happened last night.”

Kris shook his head as he finished the rest of his drink, “I have no fucking clue, so why don’t you climb back into bed, hmm?” he grinned, pulling Yixing down and wrapping his arms around the shorter, nose burying into his hair. “Ulgh, you still smell like tequila.”

Yixing laughed despite the headache and pulled closer into the older’s chest, “Ew. You too.”

It was hardly two minutes before another knock sounded at the door and Kris groaned, “What part of ‘Do Not Disturb’ don’t people understand?!”

“Just ignore it, it’s probably just Zitao coming back to get you,” Yixing whined, pulling himself closer to his boyfriend and burying his words into the older’s chest.

“Hey Kris! Open up!” Lu Han’s voice called from the hallway on the other side of the door, “I can’t find Yixing, do you know where he is?”

Kris let out another annoyed groan, “I should probably get the door and let him know you’re fine, shouldn’t I?”

Yixing scowled but let his hands fall as Kris pulled himself up again, jumping into a pair of sweatpants before going to the door.

Yixing barely had enough time to pull the sheets over himself when Lu Han barged into the room with a stupid grin on his face, Minseok in tow, wearing an equally amused (albeit slightly more subtle) grin. “So, how are my two favourite under-the-company-radar lovebirds this fine morning?” he asked, a single eyebrow raised.

Yixing scowled at his best friend, “Not everyone is so anxious to have the world know that they’re having an office romance, okay.” He rolled his eyes as he climbed out of bed if an effort to get away from Lu Han’s judging stare, “What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“We have to go out to celebrate!” Lu Han cheered, making both Yixing and Kris cringe at the early-morning loudness.

“What the hell are we celebrating?” Yixing muttered, grabbing his glass and heading to the sink to replenish it, resisting the urge to act uncivilized in front of company and simply drink straight from the tap.

“You don’t remember?” Minseok piped up, slinking one arm around Lu Han’s waist.

“Remember what?!” Yixing grumbled in between gulps.

Minseok raised an eyebrow and scoffed before using his free hand to pull his cell phone from his pocket, fidgeting a moment before turning the screen towards Yixing.

_ Hey! Come to the chapel! Kris and I need a couple of witnesses to get married! _

Yixing choked on his drink, splashing all down his front as his eyes flickered between Minseok’s phone and Kris, who was standing with a confused look on his face.

“What?” the tallest male asked and Lu Han broke out into raucous laughter.

“Well, uhm, I suggest you two check your phones and piece together what happened last night.” Lu Han threaded his fingers in between Minseok’s and started for the door, “If you guys need a good lawyer, I know one!” he shouted just before closing the door behind him.

Yixing turned to stare at Kris with a slightly panicked look on his face, “Wait, we fucking _got married_ last night?!”

Kris looked at Yixing with confusion before his eyes widened in realisation, “ _Oh, shit_ ,” he muttered before he started to pace the room. “ _Shit shit shit!_ ”

Yixing groaned as images of him skipping down a rundown church alter, humming out of tune to the Wedding March playing from an old CD player. “Oh my god, why do they let people _that_ drunk get married?!”

Kris let out what felt like the millionth groan that morning as he collapsed into the hotel couch, “What are we going to do then?”

Yixing shrugged as he sat in the chair opposite Kris’ couch, “I suppose we should call Lu Han about that lawyer then, huh?”

Kris hummed, “Yeah, I guess. Or…”

Yixing’s ears perked up at ‘or’, sitting up straighter as he eyed Kris suspiciously, “Or what?”

The older grinned as he grabbed the cushion from under him and threw it under his head, “Well, we could… maybe… just leave it? And then…you could… just move in with me?”

Yixing stared blankly at Kris for a moment before breaking out into a wide grin and getting up to look down at his now-husband, “Kris Wu. That is a fucking terrible proposal. But I guess I’ll have to say yes anyway.”

Kris chuckled and grabbed the younger around the neck, pulling him down for their first sober(-ish) kiss as a married couple.


	9. Dogwalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fanxing pet walking AU

Kris scowls as he takes in the dog hair-covered room, fingers clenching around his briefcase. “Zhang Yixing!” He calls, lifting his head so his voice carries better into the second floor from the open-to-above living room where Fanxing’s bed lies, stuffing coming out of gnawed holes, next to a fallen lamp. He hears a scuffling upstairs as he nudges the dog bed back into place against the wall with a shake of his head. “Zhang Yixing! Come down here!”

The tall male still finds it hard to believe how easily he had succumbed to those pitiful eyes staring up at him in the kitchen the night he came home to Yixing giving the puppy a bath in the kitchen sink. How could he have so easily forgotten how much of a handful having a pet is? The house is never spotless anymore, and even though Kris has to compliment Fanxing for not destroying _all_ the furniture, the Scottish Terrier is too happy for the mess of hairs he leaves everywhere, especially on his white couch cushions.

Kris kisses his teeth when Yixing refuses to acknowledge him and he turns around to head up the stairs himself, only to catch the front door closing. Kris growls as he pulls his jacket on again, tossing his briefcase in the closet before swinging the door open to see his boyfriend jogging quickly away, Fanxing keeping pace next to him easily. “Oh for crying out loud,” Kris mutters out loud to himself, “Am I going to have to chase you _every_ time that dumb dog does something stupid?!” He pulls the door closed behind him with more force than necessary, hopping from the porch to the ground in one go, skipping the handful of steps in between. He chases them all the way to the neighbourhood park before small droplets of rain start to fall, making loose strands of his hair stick to his face.

“Okay, okay, you got us,” Yixing surrenders, holding his arms up in defeat. “We’re really sorry and we’ll replace that lamp tomorrow, okay?”

Kris glares at the younger, but as usual, he can’t find the resolve to stay mad, and instead, opts to try to put on his best stern face, “Damn straight! And if Fanxing breaks anything else, I swear, I’ll have him sent to the animal shelter.”

Yixing whimpers a littler, eyes screwing up pitifully to match his upturned eyebrows, “But, he’s just being a puppy! It’s not his fault!”

“Yixing…” Kris starts disapprovingly before he hears a small sneeze from below that turns his attention to the puppy, wagging his tail happily as he sniffs at the ground, not seemingly to notice the rain that was starting to come down heavier as each second passes. Kris glances back up at Yixing (still giving the older his best apologetic look) and groans, “Why, _why_ did I agree to let you keep him?!” he scowls before bending down to pick up Fanxing, who sneezes in the rain again before shivering a little. The tall blond sighs in resignation and undoes the top button on his jacket before tucking Fanxing into his breast, leashing hanging out of his jacket with Yixing holding onto the other end.

“Giddy-up, daddy!” Yiing prompts with his “Fanxing voice” (as the younger calls it) and Kris groans as he rolls his eyes at Yixing.

“I hate you, you know that, right?”

Yixing only smiles, eyes folding into thin semi-circles and dimple accenting his amusement.


	10. Bubblebath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "can you write a fanxing where they take a completely nonsexual bubble bath together that is nothing but fluff and blushing and cuteness? if not I understand, I just need this to be a thing"

Yixing sighs with content as he lowers himself into the bathroom tub, filled with soapy pinkish bubbles and smelling of bubble gum. It has been a long week and given that it’s _finally_ Friday, he thinks it’s pretty understandable that he would want some time to himself, instead of catering to the needs of all his clients. He lies back in the tiled wall, sitting down until his neck hits the edge of the ceramic, knees bending in the not-quite-long-enough tub until his knees break the surface of the water.

“Hey, make some room.”

Yixing’s eyes fly open to find Kris standing stark naked next to the tub with an expectant look and the redhead nearly drowns when he loses his balance and his feet slip, making his head drop under water. He scrambles for a minute, face flushing as he pulls his knees to himself and buries his face in them, “What are you doing, Kris?”

The tall blond simple shrugs as he steps in to join Yixing, displaced water spilling over the edges onto the bathroom floor. “Joining you,” he answers easily with a smile, crossing his arms to rest over his own bent knees.

“I’m supposed to be relaxing, _by myself_ ,” Yixing emphasizes indignantly, picking up a handful or bubbles in his palm and throwing them half-successfully at the older.

“Are you saying I stress you out?” Kris mumbles with a dramatic mock offended look on his features. He clasps his hands together and squirts a small jet of water in Yixing’s direction, grinning widely when it hits him square in the face.

Yixing throws one hand up to shielf himself while the other waves around blindly in front, trying to get Kris back by pushing water in his direction, but hitting instead the side of the tub and spilling more water over the edge. He glares through the pain at Kris, who seems to be having a hard time deciding whether to ask if Yixing is alright and just laughing out right. “Oh, shut up you jerk,” Yixing mutters as he tries to shake out the stinging.

Kris bites his bottom lip in an effort to cancel the smile written all over his features. With another dangerous glare from Yixing, he pulls himself straight and clears his throat, still trying to regain control of his laughter, “Okay, I’m sorry. Okay, wait wait wait,” he clears his throat again and puts on a straight face, “K, no I’m good.” He takes Yixing’s hurt hand despite the latter’s disgruntled scowl and brings it to inspect further, finger running lightly over the red spot before bringing it to kiss lightly, “I’m really sorry I ruined relaxing time for you and made you hurt yourself,” he apologized before rubbing the spot carefully, “Better?”

Yixing pouts but stops trying to pull his hand back to himself, “Hardly, but nothing a homecooked dinner later won’t cure,” he mumbles before dipping his chin underwater and blowing bubbles into the air.

Kris laughs lightly, “Instant ramen for dinner it is then!”


	11. Amor Deliria Nervosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Set in a time when the world considers Love as a deadly disease. Every person, once they turn 18, must subject to the procedure that is supposed to be the cure to this spreading killing machine, Amor Deliria Nervosa. (read an article about it once, i couldn't stop thinking about angsty fanxing after lmao goodluck on your nanowrimo!)"

\- - - - -

_Phase One  
Preoccupation, difficulty focusing, dry mouth, perspiration, sweaty palms, fits of dizziness and disorientation, reduced mental awareness, racing thoughts, impaired reasoning_

\- - - - -

 

Yixing stared at the construction site from across the street, watching cranes move at an impossibly slow rate and workers yelling and scrambling back and forth behind the wooden boards placed to shield pedestrians walking on the sidewalk. He’d always found watching the busy flurry of construction workers to be relaxing; he himself was slated to become an architect and he wanted to learn as much as he could about buildings.

Stepping off the bench he had been standing on, Yixing caught sight of one of the several posters plastered across the wooden boards:

_Amor Deliria Nervosa: Are you infected? Schedule your child’s Cure procedure today!_

The seventeen year old swallowed hard as he stared at the dark poster, recalling that he had just under a hundred days before he himself was to be receive the cure to the killer they called _love_. A smile spread across his face at the thought of becoming an adult, to be able to look forward to a safe and predictable life with no worries of falling into darkness like the Invalids who refused to undergo the procedure.

“Ninety-seven more days,” he whispered to himself excitedly as he started to turn towards home, ignoring the tiny voice in his head that reminded him that he’d never liked _needles_ at the doctor and this cure for amor deliria nervosa was basically a brain surgery.

“Oops! I’m so sorry!” exclaimed a voice above him as Yixing felt strong on either side of him as he held his arms out to steady himself from the collision, backpack falling to the ground from the impact.

“Ah, that’s no problem,” Yixing replied instinctively before taking a careful step back to take in the full height of his collider. Over six feet tall and with a wild blond hairstyle, the other male looked older than him by at least a couple years. He wondered idly how long ago this stranger had undergone the Cure, and whether they were close enough in age to be placed in the same pool for the determination of life partners.

“Here, you dropped this,” the stranger said with a smile, bending over and picking up Yixing’s dropped belongings and holding it to its owner.

“Oh, thanks,” Yixing answered as he took his bag back, swallowing hard when their hands brushed momentarily during the exchange. “Uhm,” he started again, “I’m sorry too, I, er, I wasn’t,” he paused; what was he trying to say again? “I wasn’t paying attent- I should have watched where I was going,” he mumbled, fingers gripping around the straps on his bag tightly.

The blond smiled again and Yixing felt something flip in his stomach when he returned the friendly gesture. The tall blond nodded in acknowledgement before looking down at the sidewalk, eyebrows rising slightly as he bent over once more. “Oh, is this yours too?” he asked, holding his hand out once more to reveal a watch, its face fashioning a large crack along its center.

Yixing’s hand flicked out to pick up the watch, worry starting to cloud his thoughts, “Oh no! This is dad’s! He trusted me to go get the battery changed and now it’s broken!”

“Oh,” the blond said flatly as the smile disappeared from his features, “I’m sorry about that. Here, let me make it up to you?” he continued, pulling a wallet from his back pocket and opening it to pull out a couple of bills.

Yixing shook his head slowly, “No, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out, this was my fault too, remember?” he waved quickly before breaking into a jog and hurrying back home before something worse happened to the watch, forgetting about his stranger.

…

“Oh this? It’s fine, I’ll just get another one tomorrow after work.”

Yixing’s brow furrowed as he watched his father toss the broken watch into the garbage can beside him. “But didn’t grandpa give you that when you were a kid?”

His father shrugged as he undid the tie around his neck and tossed it over a chair, “It’s fine. I got it when I was a teenager. I’m sure he’d understand that after thirty years, it was bound to break,” he continued, as he turned away and started towards the fridge, “Now, what do you want for dinner?”

Yixing took the opportunity to hurry forwards and pick up the watch from the top of the pile, pulling his sleeve past his fingers to use as a cleaner, “Oh, I already had some food earlier. I was just about to head out again to work on my homework,” he answered, distracted with peeking an old snack wrapper from the strap.

“Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Yixing nodded once before stuffing the watch into his back pocket out of sight, pulling his sweater down over the spot as he shouldered his backpack once more on his way to the door.

…

Yixing leaned and rested his elbows on the railing as he stared over the river at the sunset from the bridge he stood on, bag at his feet. He let out a long sigh as he stared at his father’s discarded watch, wondering how his father had so easily tossed it aside, and thinking to himself that if it had been him who had gotten a watch from his father, he would have lost a few more marbles at the thought that someone had broke it.

“Twice in one day, eh? That must mean something, right?”

Yixing turned around to find the blond stranger from earlier today grinning down at him with his arms crossed on his chest. The watch slipped from his fingers and Yixing swore out loud at his own clumsiness when he reached down to pick it up once more. “What are you doing here?”

“Just out for a run,” the blond explained, gesturing at his attire. “And since we’re having a real conversation, I’m Kris,” he introduced, holding his hand out to shake.

Yixing hadn’t noticed how clammy his hands had become until they made contact with Kris’, “Uhm, Y-Yixing,” he returned, uneasily.

Kris nudged his chin in the direction of the item in Yixing’s hands, “Didn’t get it fixed? What’d your dad say?”

Yixing swallowed, lipping his lips to get some moisture back onto them, “Hey, would you be bothered if I broke something your father gave you?”

Kris looked at Yixing with a confused expression, “Uhm, I guess…? Why?”

Yixing shook his head as he turned his attention back to the watch for a moment before setting it down on the ledge of the railing; he supposed if his father didn’t care to have anything to do with it, he didn’t either, “Nevermind. Forget I asked.”

The taller of the pair frowned before reaching down and picking up Yixing’s bag for the second time that day, “Come on, let me make it up to you. I know a great little sandwich joint just down the street here.”

Yixing bit his lip as he contemplated the offer; he should really get working on his astronomy project, but the blond’s inviting eyes made it hard to choose homework over a meal. “Okay,” he muttered, the corners of his own lips pulling upwards, “But only because you owe me.”

  
  
  
  


 

\- - - - -

_Phase Two:  
Periods of euphoria (hysterical laughter and heightened energy), periods of despair (lethargy), changes in appetite (rapid weight loss or weight gain fixation), loss of other interests, compromised reasoning skills, distortion of reality, disruption of sleep patterns, insomnia or constant fatigue, obsessive thoughts and actions, paranoia, insecurity_

\- - - - -

 

A stupid grin made itself across Yixing’s face he watched Kris struggle with a kite, glaring at Yixing from across the park when he laughed loud enough to reach across the distance.

“ _You_ try then,” Kris grumbled as he took a seat next to Yixing, tossing the roll of string into the seventeen year old’s lap.

“ _You’re_ the idiot who wanted to try flying a kite when there was no wind out,” Yixing countered, digging into his backpack for a bottle of water to throw at the blond, eyeing his lunch and contemplated pulling it now before his stomach started to growl embarrassingly.

Kris scowled as he caught the drink easily with one hand, cracking the seal and taking several gulps. Yixing watched his Adam’s Apple bob up and down and he suddenly didn’t feel hungry enough to each the lunch he had packed. “Well maybe if someone wasn’t being a lazy bastard and actually helped me out, we wouldn’t be having this problem right now.”

Yixing scowled as he pulled his architecture text book and opened it to page 192, ignoring the groan that came from Kris.

“Oh, come on, Xing. I didn’t convince you to skip school to have you bring it with you.”

“If I’m missing school to watch you fail at flying a kite, I might as well make sure I’m up to speed for tomorrow,” Yixing muttered, digging through his bag for a pen and his notebook.

Kris rolled his eyes and grabbed the textbook in a swift move, holding it out of reach of the shorter male, “You’ve never skipped school before, have you? The point of it is to _skip_ school, Zhang Yixing.”

“Give that back,” Yixing frowned, trying his best to look stern, “I somehow got coerced into this by _you_ in the first place,” he grumbled, reaching for his book once more.

Kris laughed at Yixing’s struggles, pulling the book out of the latter’s reach just as he was an inch from it, “Oh come on, Yixing, loosen up a little.”

Yixing narrowed his eyes at the taller and made a last effort to retrieve his textbook, practically leaping at him but the textbook continued to avoid capture as it flew from Kris’ hand when Yixing tripped and fell on top of the blond.

The seventeen year old swallowed hard as he stared down at the pair of twinkling eyes to looked back up him intently. Before he realized what was happening, he felt something against his lips and he pulled up away from Kris immediately, a burning sensation filling the middle of his chest. “W-what did you just do?” he asked, one hand at his mouth and one over his chest as he backed away to next to his backpack again.

Kris sat up straight again calmly, reaching for Yixing’s textbook, “It’s called a kiss.”

Yixing’s eyes widened at the word he’d learned about once in his studies, a dangerous word he understood little of except of its association with the Invalids. He swallowed hard as he back away further, fingers clenching around a tuft of perfectly green grass. “H-how old are you, Kris?” he asked in a shakey voice.

Kris held up a hand, and opened his mouth with a soothing voice, “Don’t freak out, okay, Yixing?”

Yixing’s body stiffened anxiously as he repeated his question with more assertion. “How. Old. Are. You. Kris.”

The tall blond took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “I turn nineteen in a fifty days.”

Yixing immediately searched Kris’ face for the tiny telltale scar just under the left eye that everyone over eighteen had, a marking left over from the procedure for the Cure and his eyes widened in fear when he found nothing but perfect skin there. He jumped to his feet in alarm, tripping over himself once before he regained his balance, “You’re an-,” he swallowed, unable to utter the taboo word, “Y-you… s-stay away from me…” he managed before spinning on his heel and searching for the fastest way out of the park.

“Yixing, wait!”

Despite his best reasoning, Yixing felt his legs stop moving and heard rustling behind him.

“You forgot your textbook.”

Yixing turned around to find Kris a couple feet away, clearly trying to keep his distance as he held out the heavy book in one hand, jaw clenching with a facial expression that made Yixing momentarily doubt everything he had been taught about the rebellious Invalids. He reached for his textbook, the weight dropping his arm to his side abruptly when Kris let go.

“But before you go, can you just give me a minute?”

Yixing made no move and Kris took a cautious step forwards, reaching into his pocket and pulling out of it something familiar, “You seemed pretty bummed about this the day I met you, I went and got it fixed for you, I hope you don’t mind.” He dropped Yixing’s father’s watch on top of the textbook that the younger held, offering a crooked smile as he stepped back once more and turned to leave.

The fire in Yixing’s chest only seemed to grow and grabbed the watch without looking at it a second time as he hurried home, making a mental note to make an appointment with his doctor to tend to the burning at their earliest opening.

 

  
  
  
  


 

\- - - - -

_Phase Three  
Difficulty breathing, pain in the chest/throat/stomach, difficulty swallowing, refusal to eat, complete breakdown of rational faculties, erratic behavior, violent thoughts/fantasies, hallucinations and delusions_

\- - - - -

 

“Sorry, but we’re all booked up until next week, Mr. Zhang. Our earliest availability is next Monday at 10:15am, is that alright?”

Yixing rubbed at his chest as he accepted the booking, staying on the line long enough to confirm his personal information before hanging up and throw his phone onto his bedside table in frustration. He’d decided to take the rest of the school day off, figuring that he might as well use the day to try to figure out how to fix the discomfort in his chest on his own. He fell backwards onto his bed, head hitting his pillow with a small bounce as he stared at his blank ceiling.

Yixing rolled to his side after a moment, tucking one hand under his pillow as he stared at his sidetable where he’d put the now fixed watch on its side when he’d first arrived home. He reached his free hand out hesitantly and picked it up, thumb rubbing along its smooth face and eyes watching the second hand tick noiselessly around the pin.

Invalids were supposed to be living outside of the city, weren’t supposed to be within the safe borders of their gated world and yet Kris had his own apartment here; Yixing had seen it with his own eyes last week when Kris had invited him over for video games. Invalids were supposed to be dangerous rebels, trying to spread their disease to unsuspecting victims, but Kris didn’t seem so bad. He was nice, he was _normal_. Were his teachers wrong about these Invalids?

Yixing let out a muffled groan into his pillow as he replaced the watch onto the side table and bid sleep come to him soon, to rid him of the complex thoughts running through his head.

…

Yixing laid in bed watching the wind cast dark shadows of blowing trees onto his bedroom walls against the light of the full moon. His eyes hurt from being up all day now, mind still reeling with thoughts of the tall blond who had first smiled at him a couple of weeks ago. He brought his wrist up to stare at his father’s watch he’d finally decided to start wearing for himself, wondering idly whether Kris would be awake at this time, if the blond would be willing to answer all the questions flying through his head.

With determination, he jumped out of his bed, still wearing the clothes he’d come home from the park in.

“Where are you off to so late in the night?”

Yixing spun around in the hallway to find his father in his pajamas, carrying a glass of milk in his hands, obviously having his own problems with insomnia. Yixing swallowed at the lie coming to life in his head, “Oh, the sky’s looking pretty clear tonight. Thought I’d get a head start on my project.”

“I hear you missed school today. What happened?”

“Oh! Yeah, I was feeling a little sick today, so I took the day off,” he continued to fib, words forming alarmingly easily for someone who had never lied before. “I’m feeling a lot better now since I slept the entire day, so I want to catch up with what I missed.”

Yixing’s father raised an eyebrow but only shrugged before continuing onto his room, “Good luck.”

The teenager breathed a sigh of relief as he raced down the stairs and hurried out the door, trying to remember where exactly Kris’ apartment was downtown. By the time he found the familiar grey building, Yixing’s breathing was short and he was starting see spots from the run but he hardly cared as he climbed the steps to the third floor, ringing the doorbell with a shaking finger.

Kris answered the door with only a pair of bottoms, fingers rubbing his eyes as he tried to recognize his visitor, “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

The fire that had permanently made itself home in Yixing’s chest swelled and the seventeen year old forgot all the questions he had wanted to ask Kris about the Invalids. He stared at the messy hair atop the older’s hair for a minute before standing up on his toes and reaching around Kris’ neck to pull him closer, deciding to try this _kiss_ thing that Kris had introduced him to earlier today.

“I don’t care who you are any more.”

  
  
  
  


 

\- - - - -

 _Phase Four_  
Emotional or physical paralysis (partial or total), death  
\- - - - -

 

Yixing found himself grinning even as he picked vegetables at the grocery store, wondering what Kris would think about his decision to follow in the older’s footsteps and refuse to show up for his appointment for the Cure today. He hummed to himself as he handed the cashier his credit card, ignoring the strange look he received from the cashier for his exuberance. He grabbed the receipt and shoved it into one of the bags that he picked off the belt and headed to the exit, imagining the surprise on Kris’ face when he opened his door to find Yixing standing there.

He was so wrapped into his own thoughts that he almost ran into another customer. Apologizing profusely, he turned away again to have the strength leave from his arms, groceries falling to the pavement. He only realized he was still standing in the driveway what a horn sounded at him. It was the same sound that brought him to the attention of Kris standing ten feet away, hand in hand with a petite girl.

Kris’ eyes widened at the sight of Yixing standing in the middle of the parking lot not moving and he whispered something in the girl’s ear. The intimate gesture made Yixing want to look away but he couldn’t. His feet felt glued to the ground even as Kris pulled away from whoever he’d been with and started towards Yixing.

“ _Move_ ,” he urged himself, but the strength in his legs gave out and he felt himself hurtling towards the ground. He expected to hit concrete hard, but felt himself instead cradled by something significantly softer.

“Yixing? Are you okay?”

Kris’ soothing voice seemed to draw Yixing’s from his trance and the latter pushed himself on to his feet again.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he muttered, brushing sand from his jeans, averting his gaze from Kris’ questioning eyes.

“You were probably wondering-” Kris started as he stood up to join Yixing.

“No, it’s fine,” Yixing interrupted with a hard swallow, “I have an appointment to make.”

He really should have known better, he thought to himself as he started on the sidewalk, finding the right direction. Should have known that his teachers were right, Invalids were trouble.

He should have stuck to the rules like everyone else, but he understood it now, understood that the cure was for his own safety, to keep him from the pain of _amor deliria nervosa_. He’d studied the disease, knew the phases, _knew what was waiting for him if he continued on this path._ He only turned eighteen today, he wasn’t ready for death.

He pushed open the door to the clinic and stepped up the receptionist, giving his name and who he was here to see. He smiled halfheartedly at the kind looking woman and turned to take a seat in the waiting room.


	12. High School Yixing, Prosecutor Kris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "high school yixing live with mr. perfect prosecutor wu…"

Kris swore loudly when something cold dug into his side as he fell into his couch after work. He can’t remember ever being _this_ messy when he has been in high school. Kris groaned as he loosened his tie with one hand and pulled the coiled notebook from under him with the other. Too tired from his late night at the office researching his most recent case, Kris simply sighed as he leaned his head back onto the arm of the three-seater, arm tucked under his neck for support, and closed his eyes, he could deal with his best friend’s son later; for now, he was due a much deserved nap.

He had just started to doze off when heavy footsteps came down the stairs and Kris scowled when humming echoed off the tiled hallway, paired with muffled music from headphones. He peeled his eyelids open reluctantly as he rolled off the couch, flinching slightly when he misjudged the height from the seat to the floor, knee hitting the hardwood unexpectedly.

Zhang Yixing walked into the living room without noticing the body pulling himself upright beside the couch, still muttering lyrics to himself as he cut into the kitchen. Kris narrowed his eyes at the teenager’s retreating figure before bending over and picking up the tossed notebook from earlier. “Hey,” he started grumpily, “Stop leaving all your stuff everywhere,” he muttered as he held out the notebook.

The teenager didn’t even turn around as he opened the fridge, standing with the light glowing in his face as he contemplated what to eat for breakfast. Kris groaned as he asked himself for the millionth time why he had agreed to watch over his best friend’s kid for the two month business trip he had overseas. He had better things to do with his time instead of making sure the teenaged brat was properly fed and watered; it certainly didn’t help that Yixing had an annoying personality.

“ _Hey_!” he tried again, raising his voice in an effort to speak over the noise emanating from the younger’s headphones. When he failed to get a response, he lifted the notebook in his hand and swept it across the back of Yixing’s head.

“Ow!” the teenager exclaimed, turning around abruptly and pulling the earbuds out of his ears, “What the hell was that for?!”

“Don’t listen to your music so loud, it’s bad for your ears,” Kris muttered, nudging past Yixing to pull a carton of eggs to place on the counter. “And stop leaving your school shit everywhere.” He opens the cupboard beside the fridge and pulls out filters to start a pot of coffee.

Yixing let out an obviously displeased grunt as he grabbed the milk, throwing the notebook on the kitchen floor on purpose to annoy Kris, grinning when Kris bit his lip to keep from saying anything rude. “What’s for breakfast, Mr. Prosecutor Wu?” Yixing sand, hanging the ear buds around his neck but not bothering to turn off the music, now playing louder into the room without the muffling of being in the young male’s ears.

Kris frowned as he rounded toward Yixing and pulled the headphone cable from its housing in the player, throwing the end back at Yixing victoriously before grabbing a bowl from the second shelf and a fork from the top drawer. “Don’t call me that,” Kris muttered.

Yixing grinned as he came up behind the lawyer, “I could call you other things but somehow, I don’t think my father would approve.”

Kris kissed his teeth in disapproval as he sent a glare towards the younger before cracking an egg into the bowl. “Stop it,” he bit between his teeth, slotting a couple slices of bread into the toaster with his back turned deliberately towards Yixing.

Yixing frowned as he made his way over to the taller and reached his arms out to wrap around Kris’ waist, “Why? Does it bother you?” Yixing hums, cheek pressed against Kris’ back.

The lawyer kissed his teeth as he reached down and loosened Yixing’s fingers before pulling away, “ _Stop it,_ Yixing. You’re practically half my age. Are you trying to get me arrested?”

Yixing leans into the counter to watch Kris whisk eggs. “I’m sure your brilliant lawyer mind can come up with something to help you stay away from prison,” he shrugged, peering into the toaster.

“I work for the DA’s office, Yixing. I work _against_ the people who do the things that you are suggesting I do with you.”

Kris avoided a glare the Yixing sent at him, pouring the scrambled eggs into the pan with a quiet sizzle. “How hungry are you? Do you want me to make any more?”

The toaster dinged quietly and the toast bounced a couple of times before settling, quiet falling in the kitchen as Kris looked at Yixing expectantly. The younger looked solidly back at Kris before letting out a long sigh and pushing up off the counter. “Three years, Kris. Three years until I’m legal aged and _then_ we’ll talk again, okay?” Yixing held Kris’ startled gaze for a moment before smiling cheerfully again, “I’m going to be late for school. I’ll just have these and I’ll be good,” he announced, grabbing the slices from the toaster and a paper towel to hold them in. “Don’t work to late tonight, okay?”

Kris scowled as he watched the boy run out the kitchen and listened for the door to slam shut before turning his attention back to his eggs with jaw clenched, turning the stove off with a snap of his wrist. He stared at the pan of eggs for a moment before deciding he wasn’t hungry enough to eat by himself. His attention turned to the notebook and he let out an exasperated sigh, “Always such a forgetful kid,” he muttered to himself, picking it up and headed up the stairs to drop it off. He rolled his eyes at the blanket thrown onto the floor in what Kris imagined was Yixing’s way to wake up in the mornings. Heading over to the mess on the floor, he picked the linen up and threw it haphazardly onto the bed before taking a seat at the end.

“Three years won’t change the fact that you’re still my best friend’s kid,” he sighed, waiting a moment before getting up again to go to the shower in his own room.


	13. Pirates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fanxing pirate!AU? c:"

Bile burned in his throat as the ten year old boy stepped around cables in the engine room in search of his family. _Hurry_ , he repeated to himself with the reminder not to waste time looking behind him to see if he’d been caught. He couldn’t believe that he’d gone from hiding from the crew of the ship that he and his parents had stolen onto in secret, to running from the pirates that had boarded the cargo boat stealthily five minutes ago. _We sure pick the best of them to stowaway in, eh Mum and dad?_

His teeth cut into his tongue as he tripped on a steam line, chin hitting the floor just as he approached the corner where he and his family had been hiding for the past month. Wincing as he pulled himself to his knees, he didn’t notice that the small electrical room was filled with more bodies than usual until he felt a body fall beside him.

A scream that couldn’t escape burned his throat as he took in the image of his father lying on the floor with deadened eyes and a stream of scarlet spilling from his cracked lips. He stumbled backwards with disbelief until he felt a warm body behind him. Spinning around abruptly, he was met with a large man, grinning with a mouth of rotten teeth.

 _Run_ , a reasonable voice called in his head but the sinister grin on the large stranger’s face was making his knees seize.

“Well, ‘ello ‘ello, what’ve we got here?” The giant’s voice was just as bone shivering as the glass eye and the toothless grin.

Yixing only noticed that he had started to cry when his eyes flickered to the side momentarily to see a blurred image where he heard his mother’s strangled voice. He blinked a couple of times but the image stayed the same, only worse with the clearer view of her broken body under a trio of men.

“Mum?” he heard himself say in a cracked voice, his tears mirrored on his mother’s face before the giant who had confronted Yixing walked up to them. Kneeling down as he grinned at the ten year old, his fingers wrapping tightly around her neck, making Yixing start to shake in terror as his mother scratch at the man’s hand, getting red in the face.

Yixing continued to stare blankly, the only change in expression a surprised raised eyebrow at the sickening crack that seemed to echo endlessly even in the loud engine room.

“M-mum?” he repeated again, barely a whisper as he continued to stare at the blank expression on the woman’s face. His feet finally moved him forwards slowly until he stood at her shoulder, trying to ignore the way her shirt was shredded angrily as the strength in his knees gave out.

Yixing barely heard the snickering from above until he felt a hand grab at the front of his shirt, lifting him to his feet. He scrambled to pull at the fingers, his tiny frame losing against the giant’s laughing figure.

“What’s happening down here?”

The grip around Yixing’s shirt loosened with the new arrival, though the ten year old still failed to free himself.

“Just cleanin’ up down here, boss,” the giant answered, turning around to address the new-comer, still holding Yixing by the scruff of the neck. Yixing took a moment to slide his eyes sideways to see who had joined them.

“Let him go,” the tall blond said in a commanding voice, stepping over Yixing’s father, careful to keep his boots clear of the growing pool of blood.

“But,” the giant countered, the hesitance in his voice extending to his hold on Yixing’s shirt, allowing the boy to finally struggle free, tripping backwards from the unexpected freedom.

“We don’t hurt children.”

Yixing continued to back away, hiccupping as he stumbled, backs of his hands wiping at his eyes as his head drew a blank on what to do. He momentarily forgot about the newest addition to the group until he fell over from his foot getting caught on his father’s soiled shirt, landing on his behind. He looked up frantically to find the cleanest of the group holding a hand out towards him, “Need a hand?”

Yixing’s gaze flickered between the offered hand, the crouched owner of the hand, and the quartet behind the owner of the hand before falling on his parent’s still bodies. He swallowed, noticing how this smiling stranger seemed different, clean shaven even though there was still dirt under the fingernails like the others. His low voice was husky but still inexplicably soothing at the same time. The smile on his face was inviting and his welcoming brown eyes sparkling.

The ten year old stared at the offered hand for a moment, sniffling a couple times before he took it carefully, feeling comfort in the warmth of the long fingers and the widening smile on the man’s face. “That’s good. Why don’t we go upstairs?” he suggested in the same comforting tone and Yixing nodded slowly, though eyeing the other men with a worried look. “It’s okay, you’re with me now, you’re safe.”

Yixing swallowed hard and tightened his grip around one of the slender fingers when the giant sent him a glare, making him retreat behind his savior. “Come on, let’s go upstairs, okay?” He followed the voice, making a purposeful attempt to ignore the daggers he felt being glares into his back. He kept his gaze low as he mounted the steps, grip tightening when he caught sight of several other bodies strewn along the ship floor. He kept silent as he was led across a wooden plank onto the other ship, following the man he clung to until the latter closed the door on what Yixing had to assume was the captain’s quarters.

“My name is Kris, by the way. What should I call you?” The tall blond finally let go of Yixing’s hand, taking a seat on the table in the middle of the room and indicating for the boy to make himself comfortable wherever he felt.

Yixing swallowed and simply sat down where Kris let go of his hand, tucking his legs under him and hanging his head, declining to answer as he wiped the rest of the drying tears from his face.

“Can I ask you for a favour?” Kris continued conversationally when he didn’t get a response, “I need a little help with all the things I have to do. Do you think you could be my assistant? Just for little things, you know?”

Yixing looked up at the sincere face and hesitated. The Kris man was clearly the leader of those men who killed his parents, but at the same time he was the same man who had just saved his life, he wasn’t blind to that. He continued to stare at his lap, noticing that he had finally stopped shaking.

“I really don’t want to leave you to the guys, because, well, that might not end so well, so what do you think? You can stay with me up here, too.”

Yixing shivered unconsciously at the memory of the quartet they’d left behind and swallowed uncomfortably at the idea of being caught alone with them. “O-Okay…” he managed to get out through a stutter as he looked up slightly. The smile he received in return made him flush slightly and he quickly dropped his chin into his chest again. “And… i-it’s Yixing…”

…

Yixing heaved at the door that lead to the kitchens, taking a couple steps backwards in surprise as it swung open with someone coming pushing from the other side. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled immediately, keeping his head down low in respect.

“Oh look what the cat dragged in,” a familiar voice said, making Yixing’s head snap upwards to the same toothless grin that still haunted him in his dreams in the small cot that Kris had arranged next to his own bed. He stumbled backwards a couple steps as his eyes widened in terror at the way the giant bit angrily into a dinner roll. “All alone, huh?” he grunted before a joking twinkle sparkled in his eye, “You know, one of these days, the cap’n’s not going to be around, and you and I, we’re gunna finish what we started last week,” he finished with a rumbling laugh as he walked away, taking another bite.

Yixing returned to the captain’s room with a tray, the items on it shaking with the carrier’s anxiety. “Your dinner, sir,” he mumbled before setting the tray on the table and then taking a long step back, one hand on the opposite elbow to try to control himself, avoiding the curious look Kris gave him as he picked up the fork.

“You alright, Yixing?”

Yixing nodded once, determined not to burden his savior with anything else; he’d caused enough problems, he should just do his best to be helpful, to try his best to at least _try_ to repay this debt.

A knock sounded at the door just as the captain started to open his mouth and Yixing stepped aside to let in whoever was pushing the door open, freezing instantly as he recognized the same face that had confronted him only minutes ago. He didn’t hear the report that the giant recited, only focusing on keeping still and hopefully out of sight. He chanced a look up at Kris, glancing away quickly when the captain returned the glance, biting his bottom lip when he realized that Kris had connected the dots between Yixing’s shaking and the arrival of one of his crew.

“I need you to do something for me,” Kris spoke up, interrupting his guest in midsentence.

“Sir?” the nightmare asked with a confused raised eyebrow.

“I need you to give a message to the crew for me,” Kris continued, getting up from his seat and walking deliberately around the table, twirling the knife for his steak in one hand as he ate a piece of his dinner from the fork in the other hand. Yixing watched the stern look on Kris’ face, flinching at the dangerous flicker in the captain’s eye even though it wasn’t directed at him. “I’d like you to tell them that if any of them have issue with any of my decision concerning the raid last week, they should come to me themselves. _And_ , please remind them that if they damage the _captain’s_ personal property in any way,” Kris smiled as he dug the blade into the wooden surface of his table, sending a tin mug rattling on the tray with his dinner, “They’ll have me to deal with.”

Yixing had jumped when the blade had been slammed into the table, but it was nothing compared to the way the colour seemed to have drained from the giant’s face when Yixing dared to chance a glance at him again.

“Y-yes sir. I’ll tell ‘em. I’m sure they understand _completely_.” The giant bowed slightly before backing out of the door once more.

Yixing glanced at Kris again, not sure how to express his gratitude, because he knew the whole scene had been on his behalf; that was a second time that Kris had helped him now. “I-…”

Kris turned to look at Yixing like he had forgotten that the boy had been there the entire time to witness. He pulled the knife out of the table with a wiggle, wiping the blade on his shirt as he wandered back around to his side of the table again and cut into his dinner once more. He nodded at Yixing to come forward, pointing at the chair on the opposite side of his table, “Sit,” he ordered.

Yixing shuffled forwards, hopping onto the seat and kicking his feet back and forth as he hung his head once more as he started to say his thanks before he was interrupted with a piece of meat waved in front of him on a fork. Yixing looked up at Kris in surprise and the latter smiled again, “Eat,” he said in a friendly tone. “I can’t finish it all by myself.”

Yixing stared at Kris another moment before the corner of his mouth tugged up slightly for the first time since the cargo ship he had stowed away on was attacked. He leaned forwards quietly and bit down quietly. “Thanks,” he mumbled, hoping that it was enough to convey more than just the gratitude for the offer of nourishment.

...

The thirty two year old stood anxiously in the captain’s cabin, grip around the door frame tightening as he watched the nimble teenager climb down the main mast from behind the glass. It had already been almost a decade since he’d rescued the shaking child from the engine room but Kris still had a hard time believing that the confident male outside his room yelling orders at the rest of the crew was the same little boy who had cowered behind him so many years ago.

Kris only let himself breathe again when Yixing hopped off the ladder rungs onto the ship deck, landing lightly on the wood with ease. His grip loosened and he turned away from the window in the door as he reminded himself that Yixing hardly needed Kris to worry for him anymore. He ventured towards his table once more, grabbing a dusty bottle of rum off the shelves before standing in front of the map that

_Bang!_

Kris nearly choked on his drink at the sudden loud sound from his door swinging open against the wall, turning around to glare at his intruder. “Dammit, Yixing, have you never heard of knocking?”

The nineteen year old grinned at Kris will the fullest set of teeth on board the ship, “Yes, but it’s so much more fun to see you jump like that.”

“I am your captain, boy,” Kris warned, half-jokingly with his eyes narrowing further when Yixing bit his lip to hide his smile, but failed to conceal the enjoyment in his gaze. The taller of the pair rolled his eyes as he took another swig from his bottle before settling it down on the table next to his compass. “What do you want?”

Yixing grinned again as he relaxed from his stiff stance with his hand behind his back, stepping forwards to take a seat in the chair opposite Kris, clearly ignoring the order of authority that Kris had tried to establish just a moment ago as he grabbed the bottle and kicked his ankles up to cross on the wooden table. “Just wanted to report that we’re right on course; Tortuga is about an hour away now so we’ll be docking pretty soon.”

Kris raised an eyebrow curiously, reaching across to pull the bottle away and placing it out of Yixing’s reach, “Why are _you_ telling me this? Where’s my first mate?”

Yixing shrugged as he wiped at the dribble down his chin that Kris had caused with the back of his hand, “Well, given that he’s been passed out drunk in his hammock since morning, I’m going to say he’s got no idea where we are anyway.”

Kris groaned and took another long drink from his bottle, “Of course he is,” he muttered before waving a dismissive hand at Yixing, “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Yixing got up to his feet again, contemplating a minute before stealing Kris’ bottle again and tipping the amber liquid into his own mouth. “You shouldn’t drink so much, old man,” he laughed before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him once more.

…

Kris hopped off onto the dock with a slight wobble, trying to get used to unmoving land after months on the rolling seas. Turning around to make sure that his crew was offloading his ship properly, he scanned the faces to find the one he was looking for. “Hey Yixing!” he called, making the younger look up from the crate he was checking.

“Yes, cap’n?”

Kris resisted the urge to scowl, knowing that Yixing only ever addressed him as such when he was with the rest of the crew. “Finish up what you’re doing over there. We need to talk.”

Yixing turned to one of the men beside him, muttering a few words Kris couldn’t hear and getting a curt nod before he started towards Kris, “What’d’ya need?”

Kris nudged his head towards the closest pathway into town, “Let’s take a walk.”

The two stepped into the first restaurant, taking seats in the corner of the place and ordering the house special for dinner. Yixing leaned his chin into his propped up hand and waited for Kris to start talking first.

“When we set out again, I’d like you to be my first mate.”

It took a moment for the words to get through to Yixing but the younger’s face brightened as his chin lifted off his hand, “Me? Really?”

Kris couldn’t help but smile at the joy in Yixing’s face, “Of course. I mean, you’re one of the best of my crew, you deserve it. Besides, the one I’ve got now can’t seem to get off the bottle long enough to-” He paused in mid-thought when he noticed the darkened expression on the other’s face, “Yixing?”

At the mention of his name, the younger slapped on a vibrant smile again, though Kris could still tell there was something wrong. “Yeah, uh, that’s sounds great!” Yixing answered and Kris crinkled his forehead at the false cheer in his voice, though he didn’t say anything as their waitress arrived with their plates. “Uhm, actually, I’m not too hungry. I think I’ll head back and help out the guys, make sure everything’s going alright. If that’s okay with you, of course, _captain_.”

Kris’ eyebrows furrowed together at the bite of the last word but only nodded slowly as Yixing slipped out of his chair; that was probably the first time Yixing had called him that when they were alone.

…

Kris wandered into the tavern and grabbed a glass off the closest tray held by a waitress, returning declining smiles at women dressed in vibrant colours, breasts on liberal display. The bar was filled with his men tonight, each with a bottle in one hand and a woman in his other and Kris raised his glass on more than one occasion to acknowledge his crew as he passed them, hardly paying attention to them as he searched the walls for a single face; Yixing was always the calmest of his men, always choosing to sit quietly in a corner enjoying just a couple of easy drinks instead, usually alone until Kris joined him.

Kris froze in his step when he finally found the person he’d been looking for, only his glass nearly slipped from his fingers when he realized that Yixing wasn’t alone, arms swung lazily around the women on each side of him. Kris scowled as he stormed towards the younger, ignoring the surprised looks on the women’s faces as he approached.

“Oh hey! You’ve finally joined us, captain!” Yixing cried out, unhooking one arm so he could tap his glass against Kris’.

The blond gave Yixing a concerned look as the younger drained his drink in one swallow, slapping the glass down on the bar counter behind him and wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he held up two fingers to the bartender and pointed to one of the labeled bottles on the wall. “Come have a drink with me, cap’n,” Yixing signaled, lifting the shot glasses that the bartender had returned with and handing one to Kris. The blond had barely taken his when Yixing turned around and grabbed the saltshaker to sprinkle some on the neck of the girl on his left before leaning down to lick it off before taking his shot, eliciting giggles from either side of him.

Kris felt the muscles in his jaw tense and he slammed the tiny glass – still full of tequila – on the bar tender behind Yixing, pushing between the latter and one of the girls as he grabbed the boy by his elbow. Yixing barely put up a fight as Kris started to pull him away, offering only an annoyed “Hey!” as he pulled back long enough to finish Kris’ drink for him.

Kris waited until they were out in the night air before he let go, swinging the stumbled boy around to face him. “What the hell’s the matter with you? You’ve been acting funny ever since I asked you to be my first mate.”

Something flickered across Yixing’s face as he pulled his arms up to cross on his chest, “Nothing’s the matter with me, cap’n. Just havin’ some fun after a long journey.”

“But this isn’t like you, Yixing,” Kris continued, concern in his voice, “And why are you calling me that?”

Incredulity found its way onto the younger’s face and Kris flinched involuntarily. “‘Like me,’ Kris? What the hell do you know about me? Did you know that I turn twenty today? And your great present to me was to call me part of your fuckin’ crew. Well guess what, your _crew_ addresses you by _captain_ and your _crew_ gets drunk in bars with beautiful women.” Yixing sent a hard look at Kris for a second before spinning around and heading to the entrance again.

“Yixing, stop, you’re acting like a child,” Kris sighed with exasperation.

“A child?” Yixing muttered through clenched teeth as he turned to face Kris again, eyes hard, “You’re not my fucking father Kris. One of your men killed him ten years ago, remember? Him and mum.”

Kris swallowed hard at the memory. “I never intended to replace him, Yixing,” he answered quietly. 

Yixing sighed as he visibly tried to calm himself with a deep breath, “Then stop acting like it then, Kris. I’m an adult already, I don’t need you looking after me like I’m still ten years old, because I’m not. I never looked to you as a father figure in the first place.” Yixing looked Kris squarely in the eye, cheeks flushed from the alcohol burning in his system. “I’m not a kid any more, Kris,” he repeated with another sigh, “And I don’t want to be just one of your crew either,” he finished quietly before turning around and pushing into the bar once more.

Kris stared blankly after the other, blinking a couple times as he took in the words thrown at him before he let out a soft chuckle, “You’ve really grown up, haven’t you, Yixing?”


	14. Jin's 'Gone' MV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “kray fic based on jin's gone mv? hehehehe <3 :D”

  
 -30-  
  
The first time I felt him, it was through his music. I can’t really remember what day it was and I can’t quite remember the weather then either. All I remember is coming home from exam prep classes one evening and hearing it, the calm melody coming from the living room where Father taught personal lessons on the piano to those he felt worthy of his time.  
  
His own son, apparently, could never be good enough. The accident not only took away my mother and my sight, it also took away my fingers; yes, I could still touch those precious keys on the keyboard but to play them as I used to?  
  
Never again.  
  
-23-  
  
He first said hello the day Father was particularly disappointed with my poor recovery of songplaying.  
  
“I need a coffee,” my father had announced gruffly, voice heavy with disappointment, before disappearing. “Keep practicing.”  
  
 The sting was still fresh on my back when I felt someone sit down on the piano bench beside me.  
  
“Hi! Can I join you?”  
  
I didn’t say anything, still trying to figure out who the stranger that joined me was. He paused a moment as though waiting for me to reply before middle C rang through the room, then followed slowly by  F# and then A and then the rest of the song I remembered playing from last week.  
  
Concern about Father wondering how I managed to play so seamlessly rose in my chest and sure enough, we heard footsteps coming towards us once more.  
  
“Quick, hide,” I mutter quickly and there’s an out of place minor chord played before a scramble removes the weight on the opposite side of the bench.  
  
“Was someone here?”  
  
I didn’t dare turn around to face Father, the thought of the mysterious boy getting found from his hiding place keeping me in check even as a grin spread across my face. I could feel the skepticism behind me even as Father turned once more to retrieve that coffee he had originally wanted.  
  
“That was close,” a voice whispered from in front as Father’s footsteps faded once more. “My name is Yixing by the way,” he continued, skipping around the piano to join at my side again.  
  
“Kris,” I replied back in a nervous whisper before there’s a quiet clatter. “What’s that?” I asked.  
  
“Mmm, nothing,” came the response, “I was just taking a look at your candies.” There was another clatter. “Open up.” The feel of his finger grazing my lip sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.  
  
-16-  
  
My phone rang once before I picked up immediately; there was only one other person besides by father that had my number and there was no reason for Father to call me when I was in the same house. “Hey, where are you?”  
  
There was a soft sniffle from his end, “Ah, sorry about that. I can’t make it today.”  
  
I couldn’t help that frown that formed even though I had hardly known Yixing for a week. “Oh. Is everything okay, then?”  
  
“This is going to pinch just a little,” a distant female voice said from his side.  
  
I felt my forehead crinkle together as I tried to keep the obvious curiosity away from my voice, “What was that?”  
  
“Nothing, just some people talking around me,” he replied coolly. “How about I come by early next week before my class? You’ll be done your exam prep classes by next week, right?”  
  
I nodded once before I realized Yixing couldn’t see me, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”  
  
I could practically hear the smile in his voice as the doorbell downstairs rang, “Great! And since I couldn’t make it this week, I sent you a gift in the mail. It should be there soon.”  
  
A knock sounded at my door before I could give Yixing a reply, “Just a sec okay?” I muttered quickly before shoving the phone under my blankets just as the bedroom door opened and I heard my butler speak, “This came for you, sir.”  
  
“Oh, thanks?” I lifted my hands up to receive it before waving away the help, waiting for the soft click of the door closing before I rummaged under the blankets for my phone again. “Sorry about that, just some delivery,” I muttered as I traced my fingers along the small box to look for an opening.  
  
Yixing only hummed quietly from his end.  
  
“It’s some kind of glass jar…?” I pulled the small container out of the cardboard box and gave it a light shake, a quietly clinking ringing out. “Did you… buy me a jar of candy?” I asked cautiously, a smile pulling onto my face as I pulled open the lid and reached inside.  
  
There was a tinkling laugh on the other end, “The jar I saw last week was emptying, so I figured you could do with some more.”  
  
I couldn’t help the giggle that surfaced, “Thanks. I love it.”  
  
 “Good to hear,” he answered happily before there was an unexpected hiss from him, “I have to go right now, but I’ll see you next week, okay?”  
  
-9-  
  
To call my father overprotective would be an understatement. There was never a shortage of guards at our house and Yixing and I had to be careful not to be caught. I let him lead the way as we shuffled along the length of the house’s side wall.  
  
“It’s clear, come on,” he whispered from somewhere ahead of me. I was still trying to keep track of where I was going when he grabbed my hand; his warmth surrounding my forever chilled fingers as he pulled me to sit on the backyard bench. “Phew, it is always so hard to get some time alone here?”  
  
“Tell me about it,” I muttered in return as I took my seat. “Can I ask you for a favour?” I asked after a moment. “Would you let me… see you?”  
  
“See… me…?” he asked in return with confusion.  
  
I smiled and didn’t bother to come up with a reply, only raising my hands in the direction of his voice, pulling back for a split second before tracing my fingers across his face, feeling the crook of his nose, the spread of his forehead, the dip of his eyes.  
  
“How do I look? Hideous?” he laughed, his hand covering my own.  
  
“Positively,” I laughed back, breath catching when he guided my hand down and pressed it against his chest.  
  
“You feel that?” he asked quietly, his fingers pressing mine into the soft pulse underneath his sweater. “That’s my heart,” he whispered just as I felt an irregular jump under my fingertips.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
I never got an answer as I felt him pulling from me.  
  
“Get off me!”  
  
“Wait, what’s happening?”  
  
“Let me go!” Yixing’s voice ripped from him, an annoyed tone mixed with anger somewhere too far for me to reach out to.  
  
“Yixing?” I tried to get up towards the rustling, panic rising as I tried to sort out what was happening, but fell. I searched for a purchase on anything, but only felt grass all around me and something cold and cylindrical.  
  
“Kris. I promise to come back, okay?!”  
  
“Yixing?!”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Yixing!”  
  
-9-  
  
Father called it grounding, to teach me a lesson.  
  
I called it a prison. Straight home to my room after school and a bodyguard at my door at all hours of the day. It was maddening being stuck in my room with no one for company save Yixing’s jar of candies and the small bottle he’d left behind.  
  
My guard had taken pity and “accidentally” let it slip that it was his heart. I’d been mad when I first figured out it held his medications and not just candy as he’d tried to say before, annoyed that he’d hid an illness from me, but for some reason, I couldn’t stay angry.  
  
I missed him.  
  
Father had taken my phone from me and it’d been too long since I’d heard Yixing’s voice.  
  
I wondered what he was doing now.  
  
The jar on my table started to empty as I counted down the days to Thursday, wondering if Father would still be willing to teach Yixing now.  
  
-9-  
  
The answer was no.  
  
-9-  
  
I paced my room one night, perfect silence across the house; father was at a concert, leaving me alone save for the guard at my door. My ears perked at the sound of scuffling across the floor downstairs.  
  
“Hey, Kris?”  
  
I felt my heart skip a beat at the voice below my room and stopped abruptly in my pacing.  
  
“Don’t tell your dad I broke into your house okay?”  
  
The same piece he’d played when we first met sang up at me and I couldn’t help the relief that flooded in.  
  
He was here.  
  
He was alive.  
  
 _Clang!_  
  
For a moment, the discordant sound made me wonder if one of the guards had finally found him, but the silence in the house carried on before the piece picked up exactly where it had left off.  
  
He didn’t say anything as the front door clicked a couple of times and then he was gone.  
  
I didn’t hear my father come home that night but the next morning he lifted my punishment.


	15. Troublemakers's 'Now' MV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fanxing as trouble maker in their now mv"

Yixing squeals when Kris returns that night, practically jumping on him as the taller steps through the door frame. “You got it?” He asks as he drags his boyfriend back into the living room and pushing him into the couch.  
  
Kris laughs as he throws the bag on the table, pulling out a box of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his jacket and lighting one up. Yixing hops into Kris’ lap gleefully and empties the paper bag onto the couch, a couple of stacks falling around them. Yixing places a wet kiss on Kris’ cheek before he reaches behind him for his half emptied bottle. “God I love my boyfriend,” he grins, throwing an arm around Kris’ shoulder and stealing the cigarette into his own fingers.  
  
“Yeah? Does he know about me?” Kris jokes as he nudges Yixing in the ribs.  
  
Yixing snorts through his smirk as he wraps his other arm around Kris’ neck and pulls him in close enough that their foreheads touch, “Naw, I haven’t even told him about my husband yet. You get in line.”  
  
Kris kissed his teeth with disapproval but closed the gap between them with another kiss. “Pretty sure I’d do okay though. Your boyfriend seems like a reasonable guy.”  
  
“Says you,” Yixing snickers in between kisses, “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”  
  
Kris grumbles something that Yixing doesn’t catch before he’s thrown on his back and Kris hovers over him, eyes glazing over as he stared down. “You want to say that again?”  
  
Yixing rolls his eyes as he pulls Kris down towards him. “My boyfriend is a jerk,” he mutters under his breath as he bites down on Kris’ lower lip.  
  
…  
  
“How come you never told me?”  
  
“Told you _what_ , Yixing? What’s gotten into you today?”  
  
Yixing jumps to his feet, throwing lose bills at Kris. “I never asked you where you got the money, but… to think that you… you’ve _killed_ people for this?!”  
  
“What?” Kris shoots back as he blocks another flurry of bills Yixing launches his way. “Why are you bringing this up now? We’ve already talked about this!”  
  
Kris can’t tell if Yixing is even listening to him any more as he storms out of the room, grabbing his jacket and Kris’ last pack of cigarettes with him.  
  
Kris’ eyes squeeze shut as he takes a deep breath followed by the rest of his drink, wiping the back of his hand across his chin where a dribble of beer remained before throwing the bottle across the room at the wall. He kicks angrily at the coffee table and digs his own jacket out of the mess on the couch, finding a lighter but not the wallet that would help him buy a new pack of smokes. He rummages the fridge for another drink, finishing it off as he remembered he was surrounded by dollar bills. He grabs a couple handfuls, shoving them into his pockets as he slammed the door closed behind him and jumped into the convertible.  
  
 _Fuck Yixing_.  
  
…  
  
 _One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, eleven, eight, nine?_  
  
Yixing knocks back another B-52, slamming the shot glass down hard on the counter as he stumbles backward, eyebrows furrowing together as he tries to remember how many drinks he’s had. He gets as far as nine before he gets distracted by the pounding beats and the strobing lights. He closes his eyes and raises a hand clumsily in the air as his body moves to the song, hardly bothering to brush off whoever it is who has squeezed in behind him.  
  
By the end of the song, he’s somehow found his way to a wall and he leans against it, trying to make the world stop spinning before him. A warm body presses against him and he misses his first attempt to push them away. A sound that is supposed to be a ‘no’ comes out as a mumbled mess of tones and he swallows and blinks a couple of times in an effort to steady himself as he stumbles against the wall again. “No,” he says solidly this time, managing to make hard contact against the body. “ _No,_ ” he repeats with more force, overestimating how hard he’s pushing and he stumbles again, this time losing the battle with gravity and crumpling onto the ground.  
  
“Where are you, Kris?” he whispers to himself as he pulls his jacket tightly into him and curls into the corner, grabbing an abandoned bottle of beer from beside him. He finishes the rest of the bottle as his eyes start to water.  
  
…  
  
Kris peels his eyes open to an angry headache and an attempt to bring his hand to massage his temples reminds him of the nameless faces he brought home last night. He reaches beside him for the glass of water sitting there, spilling it onto the surface when he knocks it over accidentally. Another klutzy wave of his hand brings a bottle of pills clattering to the ground.  
  
The rolling sound in the silence breaks Kris from his drunken stupor and he snaps upright, eliciting disgruntled moans from either side of him.  
  
 _Yixing’s pills_.  
  
“Get out,” he says flatly as his mind starts to clear. A hand snakes up Kris’ bare chest and he slaps it away. “Get. Out.” He repeats, each syllable with increasing bite. “Now.”  
  
They don’t need a third repetition and they grab their clothes in a hurry as Kris throws an empty bottle at them just as they shut the door behind them frantically.  
  
Kris grabs his hair in frustration, a scream ripping through the home as he falls to his knees.  
  
How could he have gotten mad at him? This isn’t his fault. It’s been so long since an episode that he’s forgotten that Yixing isn’t always in control.  
  
Kris takes a deep breath and climbs to his feet once more, sniffling once against the brisk air as he searches for a decently clean shirt to wear. He rakes through the mess around him in search of his keys and pockets them alongside Yixing’s medications.  
  
*  
  
Kris finally locates him passed out against the side of a rundown building, the pounding of club music playing their last tunes as night turns to morning. “Yixing?” A slew of curses tumble out of him as he slams his car into park and jumps out. “Oh god oh god, Yixing?” he exclaims as he nears, shaking his boyfriend lightly to rouse him.  
  
Yixing lets out a soft moan, “Kris?” he wipes his hand across his eyes as though waking up in the morning, a sloppy smile making its way onto his face. Kris lets the shorter wrap his strengthless arms around his neck, “I’m sorry about this afternoon,” he slurs as Kris rummages in his pockets for the bottle he brought with him.  
  
“Shhhh, no it’s not your fault.”  
  
“Yes it is,” Yixing continues in a whisper, “My head’s all messed up and I can’t remember what’s real and I don’t know if I can trust you but I do, I _love you_ , does that make sense?”  
  
Yixing presses himself into Kris’ chest and the latter finally manages to remove one of the small pale yellow tablets. He stares at it a moment before putting it back into the container, a moment of clarity reminding him not to mix medications with alcohol. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he whispers instead, standing up and helping Yixing to the car.  
  
Kris makes it hallway back to their home before he hears retching in the back seat. He pulls hard into the gravel ditch and slams on the brakes, thankful that it’s practically the middle of the night and there’s no one else on the roads. He hears Yixing pulling at the handle as he steps out of his own seat and he nearly trips over himself to help him.  
  
The door is barely open before Yixing’s insides are spilling out of him violently as he leans his head over the seat. Kris runs a calming hand through Yixing’s hair before getting up quickly to pop the trunk and retrieve the blanket inside. “You’re going to be okay, baby.”  
  
Yixing wipes his mouth after the most recent hurl and he lets Kris wrap the blanket around him as he tries to right himself in the seat. “No, I’m not,” Yixing mumbles through closed eyes, “But it’s nice of you to say so anyway.”  
  
Kris sighs as he presses his lips over each eyelid, “I love you, Yixing.”  
  
“I love you too, Kris,” Yixing returns as he shuffles aside for Kris to join next to him. “I’m sorry about this afternoon,” he mumbles as he leans his head on the taller’s shoulder.  
  
…  
  
Yixing wakes up in his own bed but when he turns around to curl into Kris, he’s not there. “Kris?” he calls out to the empty space to no reply.  
  
He pushes himself up and pulls the covers off, hopping onto the floor with bare feet. He tiptoes around dirty clothes, picking up the nearest of Kris’ many shirts and slipping it over his head as he heads to the kitchen for a glass of water. His fingers dance across the counter until he stops at a poorly scrawled note on a crinkled piece of paper that’s wedged under his bottle of medications.  
  
 _Don’t forget to take your pills today. When I get back, we’ll go see the doctor again, okay? It’ll be my last job. I promise._  
  
 _P.S. You owe me a pack of cigarettes._  
  
Yixing smiles at the crooked smiley face drawn at the end of the note, chewing on a fingernail with a grin as he traces the poor lettering with his finger.  
  
“Stingy jerk,” he gripes irritably before pulling on a pair of jeans to head to the nearest gas station.  
  
…  
  
The weapon drops from his bloody fingers as he reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out that pack of smokes he’d taken back from Yixing last night. There’s only a single one left and it empties onto the ground with the slightest of taps.  
  
 _Just my luck, huh?_  
  
He bends down with difficulty to retrieve it, opting to eventually simply sit down on the asphalt, leaning the back of his head against the outside of his car as he lights the last cigarette. He squeezes his eyes closed as he presses against the wound in his side, coughing up a metallic taste onto his dry tongue that he tries to cover up with another drag.  
  
 _Damn, I was supposed to take Yixing to the doctor today._  
  
Another draw.  
  
 _At least I didn’t lie about this being the last job, huh, Yixing?_


	16. Hunger Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "(this is so hard i know but excuse my feels ;_;) prompt: fanxing hunger games au"

_District 9_  
  
“You afraid?”  
  
“Terrified.”  
  
Kris could tell under the joking sarcastic tone that Yixing _was_ terrified. Kris knew because _he_ was terrified too. He swallowed hard as he faced forwards, gazing over a hundred heads at the shaking girl whose name had just been pulled from the bowl of female names. The ocean of relieved girls parted for her as she made her way nervously to the stage, posture perfect as she found control of her nerves and Peacekeepers on either side of her.  
  
 _Brave girl_ , Kris thought to himself, wondering if he’d be able to do the same if his name was called next.  
  
“And the male Tribute of District 9 is…” the presenter paused, making a show of taking his time before he revealed the unlucky bastard who would dance with fate.  
  
The familiar anxious feeling filled his chest, every bit as uncomfortable as it had been the last five years, and he turned to look down at Yixing, taking his trembling hand into his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Remember,” he started in a quiet voice only to have the other snap his head around and give him a glare.  
  
“I know,” Yixing cut him off abruptly with an attempt to hold his gaze hard.  
  
Kris swallowed again as he returned his focus to the front where a small slip of paper had already been removed from the others.  
  
 _If either of us ever gets reaped, the other has to promise not to take their place._ It had been a promise between them ever since they turned twelve, a promise based on the fact that it would be an unfair guilt for the reaped if the volunteer never made it home.  
  
The hundreds of bodies around them tensed simultaneously and Kris joined them as the presenter unfolded the paper.  
  
“Zhang Yixing.”  
  
Everything around Kris seemed to have stopped, including his own heart, as the name echoed on endlessly.  
  
He heard countless sighs of relief around him as the fingers in his hand fell limp momentarily and his own grasp tightened.  
  
Thousands of folded papers in that bowl and _Yixing’s_ got selected?  
  
Two Peacekeepers arrived on either side of Yixing but Kris’ hand still refused to come unglued, desperation in his eyes as he looked down beside him.  
  
Yixing refused to meet his eye, head hung with his hair shading his eyes. “Let go, Kris,” he said with unprecedented calm as he used his free hand to pry off the taller’s hand.  
  
Kris’ jaw clenched and his fingers dug into the opposite elbow as he held himself back, fighting a million impulses to raise his hand. _It wouldn’t be what Yixing would want._ Instead, he watched the Peacekeepers escort Yixing to the stage as they did with the girl already waiting there. Yixing’s head continued to hang low for a couple steps before he stopped and turned to stare Kris hard in the eyes.  
  
“Don’t you dare come to see me before I head to the Capitol.”  
  
It was all he said before turning around again and jogging towards the stage, Peacekeepers picking up pace to stay on each side of him.  
  
As The Reaping drew to an end, Kris’ attention never left Yixing, seeing past the strong exterior to the little boy who lived next door. The little boy who never understood the concept of “No” or “Can’t” or “Impossible”.  
  
A small smile started to break over his face as the presenter said good-bye and Yixing finally turned to find Kris in the parting crowd.  
  
 _Don’t worry, Yixing. I won’t._ He promised the other with his eyes. _Because this isn’t goodbye._  
  



	17. Marriage is not for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "do you think maybe you can write a really cute fanxing domestic fic on this blog post? www(.)viralnova(.)com/marriage-is-not-for-you/ it's about the husband realizing that marriage is not for him but for his wife. it's really nice ;AA;"

Zhang Yixing stares at the ring presented in the pillowed interior of the velvety red case that Kris holds in his almost trembling fingers. “I…” he starts but he isn’t sure how to finish.  
  
Kris’ eyes flicker from nervous excitement to embarrassed disappointment, though he tries to cover it up with a cool, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer me right now. Take all the time you need.”  
  
Yixing flinches at the snap of the jewelry box closing, swallowing hard at the thought that the sound echoes figuratively in heartbreak. He watches his boyfriend breathe in deeply before pursing his lips and excusing himself to go to the bathroom. “I love you, Kris,” he manages in a reminding whisper as Kris tucks his chair neatly under the table out of the way of other diners at the restaurant. Kris smiles down at Yixing in the soft way that only Kris can, and the word that Yixing knows the other was expecting starts to make it up his throat.  
  
“I love you too, Xing,” he says quickly as he leans over to kiss Yixing on the cheek before turning around to find the bathroom.  
  
Yixing waits until he sees Kris round the corner before he lets out the breath he has been holding. “Marriage?” he thinks out loud to himself as he drops his chin into his hand. The thought of marriage has _never_ crossed his mind in the last sixteen months of his relationship with Kris. How could even think about getting married? He’s just starting to do well at work, getting entrusted with more responsibilities and getting recognized for his hard work. He can’t afford to slip up now. And Kris is just in the middle of changing careers from his longtime marketing job to professional writer, was right now the best time to be thinking about getting married? Who knows how long it would take for his work to take off? To actually be something that could support him? How much of Yixing’s salary would go to sustaining _both_ of their lives?  
  
And what of his parents? Kris hardly possessed all the traits that Yixing’s parents approved of in a partner. Surely if the two of them got married, hell would rain down on him; he’s sure that his parents are currently simply being _tolerant_ of Kris.  
  
And what would ever happen if he and Kris grew apart? How can he be sure that Kris will still love him in five years? Ten years? Twenty years? Besides, isn’t the divorce rate now somewhere pretty close to one in two marriages? Could he honestly trust Kris to be there whenever Yixing needs him?  
  
Yixing lets out a long sigh before picking up his wine glass and draining it. As he sets it back down, he eyes the small box that Kris has left and he picks it up gingerly. He cracks open the casing and his thumb traces the design of the ring before he pulls it from its confines and stares at the circle with a heavy sigh. It’s when he accidently lets the band slip from his fingers onto the elegant royal blue table cloth that he realizes he’s approaching the whole thing wrong.  
  
He realizes that he’s only done well at work with the constant encouragement from Kris these past months. That Kris has never once commented on the negative attitude of Yixing’s parents. That Kris has _always_ been there when Yixing needed him.  
  
He knows what his answer is because Yixing wants to be there for Kris as the latter strives for his dreams. He wants to find a way to have his parents accept Kris because Kris deserves the same kind of love that _his_ parents have shown Yixing. He wants to show Kris that time will never be a factor in his unwavering love for Kris.  
  
“Hey,” Kris greets easily as he settles back into his seat, startling Yixing in his. “Listen, about earlier,” he starts before Yixing interrupts with a hand.  
  
“No, wait, I have to something to say first,” Yixing says confidently as he fumbles under the table sheet to put the ring back into its case. Kris raises a concerned eyebrow and waits a moment while Yixing holds his breath anxiously.  
  
“Okay…” Kris resigns skeptically and Yixing is reminded of how Kris has always chosen to listen to what Yixing has to say first.  
  
The younger smiles as he reaches one hand across the table to grasp Kris’, “I want…” he starts uneasily trying to string together coherent sentences in his head that would likely end up a mess on his tongue anyway, “I want to support you with your dreams and aspirations like you have with me. I want you to become part of my family and even if my parents don’t like it, they’ll have to deal with it because that’s _their_ problem. And then we can have our own family with kids we can mess up in our own way and then we can perfect our own judgey faces when they bring home their girlfriends or boyfriends. I want to see you smile every day when we wake up together. I want to make you happy and I want to spend every minute of every day I am with you trying to show you the love you deserve, because there’s no one else I can imagine spending my days with and because I can’t possibly love you enough for all that _you’ve_ given _me_.” Yixing pauses to catch his breath and watch the smile on Kris’ expression pull just a little wider. “Well, I guess there’s only one question I need to ask you then.  
  
“Will you marry me?”


	18. Pacific Rim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fanxing request! Thank you so much! Prompt: Pacific Rim AU. Drift compatible KrisLay"

Yixing stood frozen in his parent’s twenty-eight floor apartment as he watched the Kaiju tear through the street through the bedroom window. The town’s symbolic tower was reduced to rubble in front of his eyes, dust kicking up in a cloud that started to rise up his window. The floor shook underneath him and as the word “mom” got stuck in his throat, he was falling.  
  
…  
  
Kris woke with a start, his heart racing as he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his temples. Trying to catch his breath, he felt his way around his pitch-black dormitory room until he found the door handle and pushed it open, blinking a couple times at the fluorescent tubes in the hallway ceilings. Trying to swallow the residual anxiety from the dream, he stepped across the hallway and pushed open the door to Yixing’s room, the hallway lights casting shadows around the room.  
  
“Xing?” He called out, worry colouring his voice that came out between his still-uneven breathing. He closed the door behind him as he walked over to the bed, “Yixing, wake up.” He searched the bedside table for the reading lamp and flipped the switch so he could locate the sleeping brunet.  
  
The smaller male only curled further into himself, blankets clenched tightly in his fists, a groan slipping from him as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.  
  
Kris swallowed hard as a fresh batch of disconnected images made their way into his head; rivers of screaming civilians as they filtered messily into the underground bunkers, the CAT-III Kaiju Kris and Yixing fought three years ago on their tail. Kris winced and reached out to shake his co-pilot’s shoulder in an effort to rouse him, “ _Xing_ , wake _up._ You’re dreaming again.”  
  
Yixing body jolted as his eyes snapped open and Kris jumped back slightly in alarm, breathing out with relief as the images in his head faded to nothing. “You okay, Yixing?”  
  
Yixing pulled himself into a seated position and stared at Kris for a moment, as if trying to figure out if he was still dreaming. “Kris? What are you doing in my room?”  
  
The tall blond let out a sigh and crossed his arms on his chest, “You were having nightmares,” he answered as-a-matter-of-fact. “And they aren’t even very accurate,” he continued with a scowl, “They’d already cleared out all the civilians before that CAT-III made it to shore.”  
  
Yixing stared back at Kris blankly for a couple seconds before he let out a soft laugh that Kris promptly returned with a quite smile. “Thanks for waking me up then, you detail crazed perfectionist.”  
  
Kris only rolled his eyes at the poor attempt at an insult. “You going to be okay until morning?”  
  
Yixing turned to glance at the clock, “Yeah, I should be good. I’ll try not to _ghost_ again before we have to wake up in two hours.”  
  
Kris snorted as he uncrossed his arms and took a seat next to Yixing on the bed. “This is why you barely passed your classes five years ago, you know that right? You can’t really control _ghost drifting_. That’s why it’s called that, genius.”  
  
Yixing scowled and pushed his co-pilot off his bed. “Thanks. Now get out of my room. Let’s hope my genius-ness doesn’t accidentally permeate into Mr. Top-of-the-class.”  
  
Kris kissed his teeth as he got to his feet again, “You really sure you’ll be okay? I know how bad your nightmares can get sometimes.”  
  
Yixing swallowed but kept his smile, “Yeah, I’ll be fine, just go back to your own room already. Quit trying to make excuses to invade my personal space.”  
  
The older sighed loudly as a sudden feeling of loneliness that wasn’t his hit his chest. He made his way up to the bed again and nudged Yixing to make room on the bed, pulling the blankets from the younger and crawling underneath them.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Trying to sleep,” Kris muttered, shifting to find the most comfortable position, back towards the bewildered Yixing.  
  
“What are you doing trying to sleep in _my_ bed, Kris Wu?”  
  
Kris groaned and reached out to flip the light off before tucking in under the sheets again, “Just shut up and go to sleep, okay?”  
  
Silence fell in the room and it was another minute before Kris felt the sheets shuffle behind him. Yixing’s small but persistent warmth pressed against Kris’ back lightly and Yixing’s hair tickled the back of his neck.  
  
“G’night, Kris,” the younger whispered and Kris pretended to have already fallen asleep. “Thanks for sticking around, co-pilot,” Yixing continued quietly, almost too low for the other to hear.  
  
Kris waited until the breathing behind steadied before he dared to shift around to face Yixing. He let out a soft sigh and blew at a loose strand of hair before he reached out and drew Yixing into him, kissing his forehead briefly. “Sweet dreams, co-pilot.” Kris let his eyes drift closed again and smiled as blurred images of their first meeting formed in front of him, his own comforting memory of their synchronized spar combining with Yixing’s comforted calm.


	19. Childhood Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "kris was adopted by the zhang family when he was five. he tried to run away once but eventually decided to stay because of his foster younger brother, yixing. when they grew up, he realized that his love toward yixing is something beyond brotherly love."  
> (2) "kris realized that he love his childhood friend, yixing, more than just a friend when huang zitao, the famous playboy of their campus started to get interested with innocent yixing."

Kris turns the door handle slowly, carful to make as little sound as he can as he pushes open the door, pausing momentarily when the hinges creak.  
  
“Hey,” he whispers into the dark room as he closes the door carefully behind him again. “You okay?”  
  
The small mound under the blanks moves slightly and Kris imagines Yixing trying to nod. The older of the two creeps slowly to the side of the bed, though he really doesn’t need to keep trying to stay quiet; the fight downstairs is more than enough to bury any sound his footsteps might make. Kris stops at the edge of Yixing’s bed and sighs as he waits half a second before reaching a hand out to pull the blanket down to below Yixing’s chin. “Hi, Kris,” the younger mumbles with a forced smile, “I’m fine, you should go back to sleep.”  
  
Kris laughs lightly, “I’m not tired,” he answers, even though what he wants to say was ‘How is anyone supposed to sleep with all that noise downstairs?’  
  
Yixing shuffles over a little on the bed to make room for Kris as the older slips out of his slippers and climbs up to join the younger. He huddles under the blankets and folds the corners under himself so the cool autumn night air stays on the outside.  
  
Fights are no surprise to Kris, jumping from foster home to foster home, each with their own problems that couldn’t keep up with Kris. He’s been sent back more times than he can count and he can’t seem to get along with any of the other children at the home. At least until he was thirteen when a scrawny boy who introduced himself as Zhang Yixing showed up. Shy as he was, Yixing had a hard time with the other boys, receiving snide comments that no one would ever want someone as old as he was, that Yixing should just figure it out on his own.  The new boy was small for his age, and his fragility awoke a protective nature in Kris that he didn’t even know he had. He had always managed to ignore the other boys’ taunts, having gotten used to standing on his own, but Yixing was new and the second night that he stayed, Kris had gotten up to go grab a glass of milk, only to find instead, the newcomer crying at the kitchen table.  
  
“S-sorry,” Yixing had muttered, wiping his hands across his face with a hiccup.  
  
Kris had sighed and walked right past Yixing towards the fridge, grabbing the carton of milk before heading to the cupboards. “Stop crying,” he grumbled as he unfolded the cardboard spout before wandering to the opposite end of the table from where Yixing was huddled. “It makes you an easy target.” He filled the glass and left it there, taking the carton and leaving the room, drinking straight from the spout. “Get to sleep. You’ll wake the others.”  
  
Kris has to admit, he’s contemplated running away from this latest couple on more than one occasion, feeling suffocated with their constant efforts to be a ‘proper family’. But now he’s got Yixing to think about. And Yixing has developed an annoying attachment to this couple.  
  
These two don’t fight on a regular basis, but when it happens, it’s loud. And usually at night when Kris and Yixing are already in bed. But not asleep.  
  
Kris pulls the blanket over their heads and the fighting downstairs seems further away. Moonlight from the window still makes it through the thick fibers and he can just make out a slight frown on Yixing’s face.  
  
“You’re not going to try to run away again, are you?” Yixing asks, shivering slightly in his pajamas. Kris only hums noncommittally as he leans sideways, propping himself up on one elbow, _Naw, who would look out for you at school?_ “Go to sleep, Yixing.” The younger gives him a worried expression and Kris leans over to kiss him quickly on the forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I won’t run away. I promise, okay?”  
  
The frown on Yixing’s face stays a while longer before he closes his eyes, another shiver rippling through his body before Kris pulls him into his chest.  
  
…  
  
Yixing comes home and almost falls as he barges into Kris’ room at the top of the stairs.  
  
“Whoa, slow down there,” Kris warns from his desk as Yixing plops himself down on the bed. Kris is home for the weekend, taking a break from the confines of his university campus for a couple days.  
  
Yixing only grins stupidly back at Kris, wrinkled pages rustling as he pulls his legs in and crosses them under him. “Guess what?” he asks with a toothy grin. He doesn’t even bother to wait for Kris to reply before he straightens out the papers in his hand and holds them up in front of him, as though expecting Kris to be able to read the 12-point font from across the room. “I got in! We’re going to be on the same campus in the new year!”  
  
Kris rolls his eyes and spins around to face the equations the spread under him on countless pages.  
  
There’s a shuffling from behind him and Yixing’s face pops up beside him, a clear pout with puffed cheeks. “Why aren’t you excited? We should be roommates!”  
  
Kris scowls and pushes Yixing’s face away, only to have the younger scamper over to the other side of him. “If you frown too much, you’ll get wrinkles.”  
  
Kris groans and resigns to slamming his _Linear Algebra_ textbook closed. “Are you calling me old?”  
  
Yixing grins and tosses his acceptance letter on Kris’ desk. “Come on. Let’s go out and celebrate. I feel like having wings tonight. Your treat, right?”  
  
Kris scowls again but gets up from his chair and follows Yixing down the steps to the front door.  
  
…  
  
Yixing ends up staying in one of the university’s residences, rooming with a Star Wars fanatic that Yixing swears makes him the strangest person he knows after Kris (who is heartily offended). For the first couple of weeks, Yixing spent little time in his own room, showing up unannounced with groceries he will later use to cook dinner at Kris’ one room apartment and staying the night on the couch. Kris doesn’t particularly mind it; he’s been used to this his entire life, Yixing cooking them dinner when their foster parents have to work late at the office, which started becoming more and more common as they climbed their respective corporate ladders.  
  
When Rush week arrives though, Yixing spends less and less time at Kris’ apartment. At the end of all the rushing, Yixing get initiated into one of the more well-known fraternities, the head-of-household none other than Huang Zitao, who takes to being called simply ‘Tao’.  
  
Kris isn’t one to believe all the gossip he hears whispered as he walks past groups of preppy girls and muscled jocks, but as Yixing has taken an interest in finding a family on campus, Kris has had to do his research, given his brotherly instincts towards the small boy that was crying in the kitchen that one night so many years ago.  
  
Kris decides immediately that he doesn’t like Tao, with his cocky smirks and dyed blond hair. His strut makes Kris pray that he trips over his own shoelaces and the way Tao _clearly_ spends too much time trying to make his hair look effortless makes Kris roll his eyes. The worst thing about Tao though, Kris thinks, is his playboy mannerisms, arm always hanging off someone’s shoulder as others make room for him on the sidewalks.  
  
It’s particularly unsavory now that it’s Yixing’s shoulders that seem to be the current favourite.  
  
It takes Kris about a month before he realizes why Tao rubs him the wrong way; it’s not like Tao is much more annoying than his fellow frat brothers, it’s just that this particular frat brother is always all over Yixing.  
  
Kris decides that something has to be done about that.  
  
The two head back home for the Thanksgiving long weekend and Kris thinks this is the best time to have a chat with Yixing. He’d spent the last week trying to come up with ways to do it properly but a whole turkey dinner and bad cranberry sauce later, it’s Sunday and they’re on the seven hour car drive back to campus and he still hasn’t said anything.  
  
Yixing sits in the passenger seat with his knees folded and tucked under his chin, left hand reaching out to fiddle with the radio, trying to find a station that will reach out to where they are on the lonely highway.  
  
“Nothing good makes it out here,” Yixing mutters as he hits the scan button repeatedly.  
  
Kris mumbles something incoherent and keeps his focus on the road, though his eyes flicker to the clock a couple times as he wonders how much longer he has Yixing to himself.  
  
“How come we never hang out much when we’re on campus?” Yixing pipes up when he finally hits the power button on the console.  
  
Kris wants to make a comment about how they run in different circles, especially now that Yixing has associated himself with those frat boys.  
  
“Let’s have dinner next weekend. I’ll come by your apartment and I’ll cook,” Yixing suggests with a smile before he turns to stare out the window at the passing trees.  
  
Kris thinks that maybe he’ll wait until next week to say something.  
  
But a week passes and Kris gets swallowed up by his hydraulics class, crunching numbers on his calculator when the doorbell echoes off his studio apartment walls. He sits there with a question on his face as Yixing lets himself in and glares at Kris jokingly. “You forgot, didn’t you?”  
  
Kris raises an arm to scratch his neck sheepishly but Yixing doesn’t seem to care anyway, taking his bags and dumping them on the floor next to the fridge before settling into the seat on the other side of the kitchen table Kris is working on. “I hope you like ribs. But it really doesn’t matter if you don’t because that’s what I’m making and that’s what you’re getting.”  
  
Kris pretends to scowl at Yixing’s attitude; Yixing knows fully well that ribs are one of Kris’ favourite foods. He slips his notebook onto the open page and closes his textbook, capping his pen and tossing it aside. “Need a hand with anything?”  
  
Yixing laughs, a twinkle in his eye as he stands up and turns to dig out a pan from the bottom cupboard next to the stove. “You? Help me cook? I’d prefer if you’d just go take a shower so you don’t look like a complete slob.”  
  
Kris balls up a scrap piece of paper and throws it unceremoniously at Yixing, who hits it back at Kris with the pan. “Just don’t burn down my apartment while I’m in the shower.”  
  
“And you, don’t flood your apartment either.”  
  
Kris holds up a rude finger behind him as he grabs his towel and closes the bathroom door behind him.  
  
When he comes out again, only fifteen minutes have passed but it already smells like garlic and Yixing’s personal recipe for homemade barbeque sauce that he refuses to share with Kris. The younger male has his back towards Kris, humming over the sound of the overhead fan. Kris’ hand stops in the middle of towel-drying his hair, watching as Yixing shifts from one element to the other, dipping wooden spools into pots and pans.  
  
Yixing hasn’t heard Kris leave the shower yet and the older takes a few noiseless steps forward until he’s practically breathing over the younger’s hair. His hand falls from the towel on his head and shakily reaches out to snake around the shorter male’s shoulders.  
  
The spoon drops from Yixing’s hand as Kris curls into his back, nose pressing into his neck as the towel falls to the floor. “Kris? You okay?”  
  
Kris shakes his head silently as he closes his eyes and tightens his hold, “Yeah, I’m okay.” Kris lets out a long sigh as he opens his eyes again and his arms slacken just enough for Yixing to pick up his spoon again. “So what’re you making there?” Kris asks conversationally as he points to a boiling pot of water on the back element, arms still wrapped loosely around Yixing’s shoulders.  
  
Yixing pauses, turning his head to look at Kris with an arched eyebrow before he smiles and lifts one hand to rest naturally on Kris’ arm. “Vegetables. You eat terribly when left to your own devices,” he mutters, pointing with his free hand at the stack of empty pizza boxes stacked on the counter next to the garbage can.  
  
Kris can’t remember why he’d been so stressed about finding the proper words to say to Yixing.  
  
They’ve always been natural together.  
  
And this is no different.


End file.
